


Guide to Being an Archangel 101

by Batgirl394



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: ;or is trying to be, BAMF Stiles, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Possessive Behavior, Protective Castiel, Protective Derek, Protective Gabriel, Protective Stiles, Scott is a Bad Friend, Scott is a Good Friend, The Alpha Pack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2018-10-05 15:23:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10311224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batgirl394/pseuds/Batgirl394
Summary: In the grand scheme of things, Stiles never really expected the Winchesters to make their way through Beacon Hills. Or that one of his long forfeited brothers might be with them.But if it comes down to it, Stiles knows he'd sacrifice anything for his pack and alpha; for Derek.Even if it means fighting the prophesied Winchester brothers.Even if it means fighting his family.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Esper_Found](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esper_Found/gifts).



> This is my first fic I'll ever post, so please go easy on me!
> 
> I'd like to dedicate this to Esper_Found, who encouraged me to post with the positive comments! 
> 
> And I'd also like to also thank Locketmel who was my beta for the beginning and who helped me begin this fic.
> 
> I hope you all like it, and please give me feedback, but please nothing derogatory. Please enjoy it!

He remembered hearing the prayer, louder than the rest that formed a wave of humming in the back of his conscious. It was more dire, more insistent than the rest that were normally murmurs of faith. He listened as it repeated over and over again. The rest of his siblings had long ago stopped listening to the human’s prayers, and he was among them.

However, this prayer made him follow to the source, to the town of Beacon Hills.

He found himself at the sole hospital where the stench of the ill was overpowering, encouraging him to turn back though he didn’t.

He settled outside of a closed door, the words ‘Maternity Ward’ staring down at him from above. The sound of frantic heartbeats and rushed footsteps could be heard inside. There was no cry of a newborn child, yet there was still a desperate prayer that there should be.

He looked in, observing the sight of a broken mother and father, staring at the grief stricken doctor, who was standing over a small and unmoving body. The prayers asking for life now made sense to him.

Zadkiel had long ago, like the majority of his brothers and sisters, given up on humanity. All they did was kill and maim their own, no matter how much he intervened. Yet the sight of the lifeless child, a life that he couldn’t save if he wanted to, made him feel a great deal of sadness.

He didn’t realise he was moving towards the babe until his hand was placed across the boy’s chest, and his grace was flowing into the small body.

It wasn’t hard to move the arms of the vessel, to let out a pained cry only for the benefit of the doctor.

Everyone in the room swooned to his side, bar the mother who laid breathless and crying upon her bed. Soon he felt himself being lifted, placed in the arms of the man wearing a uniform brandished with a golden star. It wasn’t until the large, yet gentle hands had him nestled against the man’s chest, did Zadkiel feel true purpose for what he had done besides a jest.

The man above him had only deep devotion in his eyes for his newborn child, and Zadkiel, for the first time since his Father’s absence, felt loved. He realised in that moment why his Father favoured the race of humans. For their ability to love in a moment, to love unconditionally.

Soon he was passed from the father to the mother, her hands softer and smaller, but no less strong. Her love was just as strong for the child if not more. The two parents looked between themselves in a silent communication of only those who shared a deep bond. The woman was the first one to speak.

“We’ll name him Bozydar.” She said with a small smile.

“Bozydar Genim Stilinski,” The man finished.


	2. The '67 Impala

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, because the prologue was so short, I thought i'd update sooner!
> 
> So I plan on updating every second day or so, though I might be slower depending on my work hours (full-time hours at a 24/7 store is not fun. Not fun at all.) and as I get closer to the end (Haven't finished writing the last chapters yet; still trying to sort out the end ;o;)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!!!
> 
> The Winchesters and their angel make an appearance!

Stiles sighed as he shifted the petrol pump between hands.

He was getting tired of having to drive to the Hale house for each and every pack meeting, knowing his allowance wasn’t going to cover all of the petrol costs. He’d asked Derek if they could have their weekly meetings elsewhere than the half-refurbished Hale house, but apparently even the idea of it was cause for Mr. I-am-the-Alpha to shove him up against a wall.

Of course, while he wouldn’t say being thrown up against the walls by the Sourwolf wasn’t great, he also wouldn’t say the thirty minute drive through the woods was awesome either.

With another sigh, Stiles replaced the pump at the sound of the meter hitting full. After heading into the station to pay for his gas, Stiles returned to his jeep.

Opening the door and about to get in, the sound of an approaching car caught his attention.

The ’67 Impala pulled up on the other side of the pump heading in the direction of town. He couldn’t help but admire the condition of the car, and the sound of its' purring engine as the owner pulled the car to a stop. Said owner was getting out of the car alongside two other passengers, and so Stiles was quick to advert his gaze before hopping in his jeep.

As he was turning away, heading towards the pack meeting, a remembered thought struck him as he looked in the rearview mirror.

He looked briefly at the passengers of the Impala as they climbed from the conditioned leather seats. Two of them, both with enough similar facial expressions to be related, were bickering with each other like the siblings Stiles had a feeling they were.

The remaining man, however, with startling blue eyes and in an oversized trench coat, was watching him go with a contemplative look upon his face.

The feeling he got from the latter set alarm bells off in Stiles head. Loud ones. He raked his brain for the rumour he’d heard along the vine, something he’d heard about two brothers and an Impala.

“Brothers…brothers…” he repeated like a mantra. The result hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Shit. Shit shit shit. The fucking Winchesters!”

~ ~ ~

When Stiles bursts through the doors to the Hale house out of breath, the first thing that tumbles out of his mouth is “Winchesters.”

Derek flinches at the name before he’s right in front of the young boy, feeling along his arms in search of injuries and sniffing along his neck as if to catch a scent. Stiles shakes him off with a wave, hiding his giddy smile as he takes his place on the seat next to Isaac.

While the feeling of Derek’s arms on him was normally a focus point, right now it wasn’t what was important.

Scott is the first to ask, “What’s a Winchester?”

He was sitting with Allison on his lap, Isaac beside them, while Jackson and Lydia were taking the love seat under the window, and Erica and Boyd laid on the ground, leaning against the arm of Derek’s chair.

Stiles had dubbed it ‘Derek’s Throne’.

And of course Creeper Peter was lurking in the corner shadows.

Allison answered before anyone else.

“They’re the most feared hunters alongside the Campbells,” she began, her words sounding more in awe than fear, “Unlike my family, they’re known for hunting every supernatural creature out there, and they supposedly stopped the apocalypse.” 

“And if they’re in town, it could mean trouble for us,” Derek added. ”We have to…”

Stiles stops listening as he starts thinking of plans to keep the hunters away from his pack. 

He could follow his older brother’s lead and take up the mantle of Trickster, lead them out of town before they hear about the pack, if they haven’t already. The Winchesters wouldn’t be a problem for him.

His brother on the other hand, would be.

He’d heard his siblings’ thoughts over the last few years, and knew that the Winchesters would only trust the older brother’s angel to travel with them.

Castiel was supposedly falling, but Stiles wasn’t positive. If he could sense Stiles's presence back at the station, when he wasn’t actively hiding it, it could cause him trouble if he’s seen near the pack.

Stiles had been hiding his grace enough to not be seen, but not enough to not be sensed by his siblings if they came near enough. His other constantly visiting brother had been proof of that.

“Stiles.”

Stiles blinked back to attention at the sound of his name coming from Derek’s lips.

“Huh?”

Derek let out a loud sigh. “No one is to approach the hunters or this house until they leave. This house has too much reputation to not attract the hunters’ attention. Do you understand Stiles?”  
“Yep.” Stiles replied, popping the ‘p’.

Derek sighed before wrapping the meeting up. The pack filed out, all the couples leaving together, with Isaac tagging along with Allison and Scott in the huntress’s car. Derek grabbed Stiles arm to stop him from leaving with the others.

“Sup Sourwolf.”

Derek completely ignored the nickname, instead asking, “Are you sure you’re alright Stiles?”

Stiles smiled. Derek had such a beautiful soul before the fire, Stiles having seen its' shine at Beacon Hills High School’s lacrosse games. His dad always thought he just had a love of lacrosse. He remembered its' shine as much as he remembered Derek's true smile, that he used to use so freely before the Argent.

Since the fire he had seen it dim, becoming almost dull when Erica and Boyd disappeared. Stiles had, for the first time in over fifteen years, used his Grace to find them, just so Derek wouldn’t lose that light.

He had found them being tortured by Gerard, but had quickly dispersed him with his grace. Though the thought of torture did come to mind he knew that he would get his comeuppance in the afterlife, and that Derek needed his betas more.

He had dragged the unconscious pair back to his jeep before taking them to Derek. The alpha had cried when he saw the state they were in, and had stayed with them the whole time they were recovering, excusing their own pleas for forgiveness.

In that moment Stiles had seen Derek’s soul burn brighter than it had in years. It was still glowing with his happiness even now, only having grown since his betas' agreed return.

Derek had trusted him more after that, often asking for his advice, and replying to his texts, no matter how meaningless and sarcastic. Something that Scott had stopped doing once Allison came along.

And Derek had become a better alpha, opening up more to his pack.

When he saw the hurt in Derek’s eyes whenever Peter would arrive, barely ever looking at his nephew with everything except the familial love Derek needed, he knew he had to fix Peter’s insanity and simmering hatred.

He had revealed what he was to the older Hale, and had taken him to see the deceased Hales. They had told him they were happy, and that they were avenged, even though they never would have asked him to turn to such methods. They told him to move on, and to not make Derek’s self-hatred worse. Laura had forgiven him with a punch to the face and a lasting hug.

It had worked. And Peter had slowly begun to open up to Derek. Though he was still a complete creeper about it.

But his eyes held more sanity than Stiles had seen in him, and Derek had told him he was gradually returning to the uncle he once was.

Derek’s pack was solidifying, and Stiles could never help the flutter of his wings whenever Derek smiled. The thought that he had done something to place it there felt life fulfilling. 

It was just that sort of smile.

“I promise I’m fine Sourwolf.” he placated.

Derek nodded before they fell into silence, neither knowing how to fill the silence. A thought struck him then, plastering a look of worry on his face.

“Where will you be staying then?”

Derek looked confused for a moment, before looking away, not making eye-contact with the younger as he replied, “Here.”

“You’re such a hypocrite. You’re staying with me then.” Stiles replied, his tone leaving no room for refusal. But it didn’t mean Derek wasn’t going to try.

“No, Stiles, I can’t intru-“

“Shut it,” He said with a smile. “Common, let’s go.”

Stiles led him to his Jeep, arguing that he would drop Derek back off at the reserve for his car, which Derek eventually conceded to as Stiles mentioned that the Camaro would just attract the attention of the Hunters.

While Derek could care less about himself, he couldn’t endanger Stiles like that.

Stiles was still working on Derek’s self-sacrificing trait.

Baby steps.

When they were well on the way to the Stilinski home, Derek spoke up out of the comfortable silence, “Stiles.”

“Hmm?” Stiles answered, his eyes focusing on the traffic build up ahead. Damn peak hour.

“How did you know about the Winchesters?”

The question was aimed for light and subtle, but Derek had the subtly of the alpha he was. Which was almost nothing.

Stiles eyes met Derek’s as the car pulled up behind a white, dirt stained van, a seriousness there that the alpha noticed only appeared in rare moments. The constant movement of Stiles body halted, the minute twitching stopping as if it was always in Derek’s imagination. 

Those moments seemed to only be when Stiles was alone with him.

“How am I expected to protect our pack if I don’t know everyone, and thing that's out there who could hurt us?”

It was said lightly, carefree, which contradicted the expression on Stiles face, and the heavy atmosphere building in the Jeep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like how its going!
> 
> And don't worry, the Winchesters will be making a bigger appearance next chapter!
> 
> Enjoy your day lovelies!


	3. Zadkiel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay guys ;o; I'd finished editing the wrong chapter, so had to go back, and then work came up ;o; but it's here now! hope you like it!
> 
> And thanks to all of you that kudos and commented! You're the ones keeping me writing!!!!

“Dean.”

Dean Winchester glanced back at their resident falling angel, before turning back to continue flicking through channels on the motel’s cheap television. “Cas?”

Castiel continued to look at him, he could feel it. It was the intense, unblinking stare that reminded Dean of an owl, but after a moment Cas was turning away to stare at the screen alongside Dean. The elongated silence grabbed Dean’s attention and he muted the television before turning to Castiel. 

“You alright Cas?” he asked, worry laced into his words.

They’d just finished an extermination job of a coven of vampires down south, and Cas had been slightly ruffled by a few, though Dean had taken extra precaution with his transitioning angel. While Sammy and himself were doing their best to not show their worry, Cas was fading before their eyes.

Dean knew that Castiel’s falling was effecting him more than he let on to the two brothers. He could see it in his eyes, in the darkened bags under them and the way he slouched when he thought no one was looking. But Dean knows Cas doesn’t want him noticing, so he stays quiet. That and he is horrible with heart-to-hearts.

Dean didn’t know what to do.

The older Winchester wouldn’t trust any of Castiel’s siblings as far as he could throw their vessels, and even then he had a feeling only Cas’s Father would be able to save him. Either that or an archangel.

And they were the siblings that made him not trust angels to begin with.

Castiel glanced back at Dean’s worried face, before turning his gaze back to the soundless moving pictures. Dean was about to ask again when Castiel spoke.

“I believe…that one of my brothers may be here.” He relented, gaze returning to Dean’s now darkening face.

“Do you know where? Which one? Does he know we’re here?”

Castiel’s eyes glazed with tears before he blinked them away. “I do not know. I thought I sensed something from the boy at the station,” Castiel paused, “but I know that it couldn’t have been him. Perhaps it was someone else.”

Dean’s eyebrow raised, “’Him’?” he asked, while absentmindedly searching his memory for the aforementioned kid.

All he could remember was a a glance at a beat down Jeep before Sammy had brought up a recurring argument on whether they should be contacting the local hunters before encroaching on their territory.

Dean had won. Chris wasn’t a territorial hunter after all. Not unless you started killing innocents that is. Oh, had Dean seen what the man did to an upstart just last month when a they’d needed to call in an army to deal with a sudden outbreak of werewolves in a town not far from the one with the vampire coven.

Well, the lingering ash that remained of them that is.

Dean once again wished that with those blasted gates closed, that the monsters around would stop appearing like the demons. Apparently he wasn’t that lucky.

Though then again, it’d put him out of the job.

“A brother long gone,” Castiel said, bringing Dean back from his inner thoughts, “Even Michael did not know what had happened. We believed he had perished, or fallen.” Castiel explained.

“So what’s this brother’s name?”

Castiel looked back to Dean as he spoke it, “Zadkiel.”

~ ~ ~

Stiles brought the Jeep to a stop before unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door. He didn’t hesitate to head straight to the front door, not waiting for his reluctant passenger to catch up.

Leaving the confined space seemingly broke the heavy atmosphere of the drive, and Stiles returned to his usual energetic and constant moving self.

Stiles yawned before making his way inside, knowing Derek would close the door on the way in. He headed straight for the kitchen, absently reading the note on the fridge that his father had to stay back late, before writing a reply with the magnetic pen, and opened the fridge.

He heard the quiet close of the door as he pulled out the leftovers from last night’s roast. Stiles placed the containers in the oven on a low-heat, setting a timer for ten minutes, before he turned around to stare at Gloomy McAlphason.

Derek was standing awkwardly in the centre of the door way, looking as uncomfortable as he probably felt. “How’s it feel to use the front door for once?” Stiles asked him, his eyebrow raised, as he hoisted himself onto the counter. That got him a snort and a small smirk. Stiles smiled.

He then realised that standing around for ten minutes socialising wasn't really Derek's thing.

“Come on Sourwolf, let us adjourn to the lounge.” Stiles exclaimed, jumping off the counter and throwing his arm out in a dramatic bow, before strolling into the lounge room and falling onto the sofa, flicking on the television before staring expectantly at the alpha.

Derek huffed almost petulantly before joining Stiles on the sofa, but in a more restrained manner. He gave Stiles a pointed glare when he left the television on a Twilight New Moon re-run. Stiles looked at him blankly before breaking out into laughter. Closing his eyes in his mirth, he didn’t see the small smile slip onto the older man’s face before it abruptly disappeared as he opened his eyes, replaced by an unamused look.

“Hey,” Stiles began seriously, “if it makes you feel any better, I’m totally team Jacob.” And he once again entered a laughing fit, this time not missing the smile that took on Derek’s face. Stiles quieted down, but with a wide smile on his face and with a feeling of content silence.

Stiles flipped the television onto re-runs of Friends before standing at the ring of the timer. Humming as he took out the glass containers, he served up two portions, one considerably bigger than the other, before he grabbed two knives and forks and made his way back into the lounge.

Derek thanked him when he passed the bigger portioned plate to the werewolf and Stiles then excused himself to go back into the kitchen to grab a couple of glasses of water. When he retook his seat in front of the television, he couldn’t help but feel truly content. 

After losing his mother, Stiles, for the first time since he left his siblings, ached to return, to feel his siblings presence as he felt his sorrow. He hadn’t felt the same crushing sorrow since Father had disappeared.

He’d been there, visiting her everyday once she’d fallen ill.

He’d wanted to help her so much, but he knew it was her spark that was causing her illness, and while he could heal her once, she’d simply fall ill soon after. He didn’t want her to live only to experience unending pain for the rest of her life.

She passed during one of his visits, and the crushing pain he’d felt as her soul slipped from her body ended in a power outage the whole town experienced.

He’d taken flight for the first time in years after her funeral.

That was when he’d seen Derek with Kate Argent.

The worst storm to hit Beacon County occurred that day.

He’d found himself after the agony, in his sobbing father’s arms in the preserve.

He’d given up on going to the Lacrosse games after that. He started to spend more time with Scott, more time with his father. Endured Jackson Whittemore’s bulling of himself as the boy was just a child.

The Hale fire happened. And before Stiles could even look for Derek after finding out, he and his sister were gone.

Kate Argent had disappeared.

Really disappeared. Even Stiles couldn’t find her, and he guessed that her and her family were under some impressive wards for him not to see her.

He’d moved on. Each day blurring into the same repetitiveness that passed time.

But it worked, because suddenly Derek was back.

Scott was bitten.

Peter had killed Kate before he'd gotten a chance to.

Though Stiles had killed her again at feeling that she was still alive.

And everything after led to this moment.

This feeling of happiness that he got whenever he was with Derek; he never wanted it to end. He’d missed Derek, and while Derek blamed himself, Stiles knew he blamed himself equally. He should have been watching over Derek closer.

But he was going to be selfish, and enjoy the closeness he’d worked hard for, enjoy the warmth that projected from Derek’s healing soul.

Because while he’d failed to save the Hale family, he could still save Derek.


	4. Unfortunate Sam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another one :D
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone for your kind comments and kudos, you're keeping me writing ;o;
> 
> This one's a tiny bit shorter but I hope you still like it ;o;

Dean choked on his words before he could get them out, “Zadkiel?! As in Archangel Zadkiel?!”

Castiel nodded absentmindedly, looking at Sam as he re-entered the room after a shower.

Sam looked between the exasperated Dean and the blank-faced Castiel before shaking his head and sighing. “Do I want to know?”

“Yes. Yes you do.” Dean exclaimed, “Apparently we might not only have a whole pack of werewolves to deal with, but also an Archangel.”

Sam’s eyes darkened. “Which one?” he asked as he made his way to his bed, his towel gripped loosely around his waist.

They’d once again gone all out on a motel room that would make any average-wage earning American cringe. As Sam sat on his appointed bed, the weak wooden frame creaked under his weight. He wondered whether it would last the night.

He was almost tempted to not even bother with the bed. The floor looked more sanitary from the look of the stains on the bed covers.

“Zadkiel.” Castiel repeated, bringing Sam back to focus.

“Zadkiel as in the archangel of freedom, benevolence and mercy? That archangel? I thought you said he wasn’t alive anymore Cas?”

Dean looked at Sam with a raised brow. Sam just rolled his eyes, “I thought it would be wise to know how many Michael’s we might have to deal with.”

“I do not know if it is him,” Castiel explained to Sam, “as I believed that he was killed, or had fallen. This angel could easily be another of my siblings. And you should not rely entirely on me. I cannot be the best at judging anymore.” Castiel said, looking away.

Sam watched as Dean looked at the angel with a stern jaw, the older Winchester opening his mouth to say something before he slammed it shut with a sharp crack. Dean quickly looked away back to the television. 

Dean had been trying his hardest to make Cas feel welcome, trying to help him fit in, help him understand basic human actions. Of course for Dean, that revolved around pie , television and hunting. Though Sam knew that was all Dean really knew.

He let out a sigh, though hid a smile as he saw Dean glancing every so often at Castiel’s back. Pulling his bag towards him to grab a spare change of clothes, Sam wanted to laugh at his own misfortune. 

Not only was his brother horrid at anything close to ‘feelings’, but he was such an idiot that he didn’t even realise he was lusting after the blue-eyed angel.

And Sam was unlucky enough to constantly be caught in-between their equal pining of each other.

“Well,” Sam reasoned, “why don’t we focus on the werewolves? I mean, what would the likelihood be of an angel working alongside a werewolf pack?”

~ ~ ~

Stiles yawned as he opened his eyes. Blinking back the sleep in his eyes, he stretched like a cat, and only blanched when he hit something.

Recounting how he got on the couch, he winced when he heard a groan and grumble from the body squashed against his. Peeking through his lashes, Stiles was met by the sight of an awakening Derek Hale, his body resting atop Stiles's, with his head nestled on Stiles's chest. It seemed as though he wasn’t the only one that fell asleep, he thought as he smiled down at the werewolf, Derek looking younger during sleep. It was until he heard a pointed cough that he took in his surroundings. He practically hurdled the couch when the sight of his dad standing above him with a raised eyebrow entered his range of sight. 

“I swear it’s not what it looks like!” Were the first words to come from his mouth. Stiles wanted to scream at Derek. The one time super hearing could be useful, he doesn’t even use it.

His dad just raised his brow higher, before looking at the awakening Derek.

Stiles thought it took longer than he expected for Derek to react but thankfully, it wasn’t in a wolfy way. More of just a complete freeze. Like a rabbit caught in headlights. Stiles found it ironic.  
“Well, then I would love to know what it is then. Stiles?” His dad asked, turning his stare on him.

Stiles swallowed.

“Well…”

“Stiles was kind enough to offer me a place to stay, sir.” Derek cut in, standing up quickly, “My house is currently in repair, and Stiles offered his couch, then we both fell asleep. I assumed he would have asked your permission first, sir.”

Stiles glared at Derek. He was a good liar, but he just had to put the blame on him, Stiles thought.

“Indeed.” The Sheriff replied, before pointedly taking the seat next to Stiles, leaving the open space beside him for Derek. Stiles blushed. “Well seeing as it was my son’s fault, you can stay. Just next time, Stiles? Don’t invite older men into the home without asking me first.” Stiles blushed harder.

He looked towards the still standing Derek, whom looked uncomfortable once again. He sighed.

“I’ve already had dinner at the diner,” at Stiles pointed look he continued, “don’t worry Stiles, it was a green salad.”

Stiles huffed, “I’m off to bed, I’ll grab some linen for Derek to sleep on.”

He knew that his dad would send him off anyway soon, his eyes showing the glint they normally did when he was about to question a suspect. Stiles knew that because his father had the same look when he questioned him.

Stiles smiled, before running for the stairs, hoping the faster he can get the couch set up for Derek the faster his dad would go to sleep and leave Derek alone.

The look on Derek’s face as he left could be described as constipated.

Grabbing some spare blankets and a pillow from the linen closet, he headed back to the lounge. He was glad that he’d gotten into the habit of leaving a set for Scott when he stayed over, it saved him from spending more time hunting them down.

He tried not to dwell on the fact that Scott hadn’t had use of them in a long while.

Entering the lounge, he found a pale Derek in his vacated seat with a beer, his dad’s hands holding a matching bottle.

“Thank you Stiles,” his father said with a kind smile, “have a good night’s rest son.”

“You too Dad.” Stiles said withholding a sigh. His father wouldn’t be leaving Derek alone for a while.

A thought came to him, “Dad?”

“Yes Stiles?” the Sheriff asked with exasperation. He’d had a long day and coming home to this defiantly made it longer. The fact he was about to have a nice long chat made him want for his bed upstairs.

“There were three suspicious guys near the service station on the road into town, driving a ’67 Impala? Just thought you should watch out for them.”

The sheriff nodded, his eyes taking on a more hardened gaze. His son was always good at judging people. He had never been wrong yet. He’d make sure to to notify the others at the station to keep an eye out.

After his chat with Hale, of course.


	5. A Warning, From Me to You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next one!!!!
> 
> Thanks to everyone that kudos and commented over the last week or so, I can't express how much I appreciate that you guys are showing you're liking my pic ;o; Love you guys!!!
> 
> Also, while I've got the first few chapters down, I'm still going, so feel free to comment some of what you might want thread, and I'll see about maybe writing it in ;D

The next morning, Stiles drove Derek home before his father could wake up and protest. He didn’t ask what his father talked to Derek about last night. Mainly because of Derek’s haggard appearance staring at ahead in the Jeep's passenger seat.

The trip there was mostly silent, ignoring Stiles’ singing along to Lady Gaga’s ‘Born This Way’. Derek scowled at the high pitched rendition, though didn’t protest much to Stiles’ surprise.

When they pulled up at the Hale house, Stiles opened his mouth about to offer some take-away breakfast from the diner in town, and to offer Derek another night at the Stilinski abode, but he faltered when he saw Derek’s eyes glowing red.

Following his Alpha’s gaze, Stiles saw the destroyed Camaro, its' windows smashed and doors dented. 

What made his blood boil was the sight of the broken in front door, swinging slightly in the early morning breeze, and the pentagram surrounded by the words 'And the hunter killed the Big Bad Wolf'.

A growl echoed the confined space of the Jeep. But surprisingly it wasn’t Derek’s. 

Stiles eyes were murderous. Someone had invaded his nest, his mate’s only safe haven. His mate’s only home. They were going to pay.

~ ~ ~

Sam looked at Dean with an exasperated look. “Was all that really necessary?”

“’at?” He asked, his mouth full of curly fries.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s manners, “We’ve never done stuff like that before, do you really think it was necessary to threaten them?”

“They’re a pack, Sam, which means there are more than just one wolf to account for. You’ve seen the reports. They’re murdering people Sam.” Dean said, his eyes hard with his resolution to kill the wolf pack.

“They don’t fear anyone. This will make them panic.

“And besides, there wasn’t any signs of anyone having stayed there last night, and a pack of wolves won’t just abandon their den, even for just a night. They know we’re here, I know it. And with these types of wolves, we have to flush them out, otherwise we’ll be waiting forever for one of them to slip up.”

Sam just sighed, before trying to finish his salad. He risked a glance at Castiel, who was surprisingly not looking at Dean for once. He followed his gaze and abruptly swallowed. Not good, he thought.

“Dean.”

“What?”

“Hello folks , I’m Sheriff Stilinski. Welcome to Beacon Hills.” a voice interrupted, a hint of steel in the polite tone.

Dean swallowed his mouthful, before putting on his most charming smile, while Sam just rolled his eyes at his stupidity. The officer was talking to them for a reason, and a smile wouldn’t change that.

“Hi Sheriff. Thanks for the welcome, can I do you anything?”

The Sheriff seemed to loose his faux smile after that. “Yes, could you folks tell me what you’re doing in town?”

That made Dean loose his own smile.

“We’ve had a report of suspicious activity concerning the owners of a 67’ Impala, license plate KAZ 2Y5, and I’m assuming it’s you folks?” he said, motioning towards said vehicle parked outside the diner.

Sam was the one to answer, Dean’s eyes taking on a dark shade at the acusation, “Just passing through, Sir. And seeing an old friend later today about a possible short-term job.”

“Oh, who might that be? I can give you folks some directions.” the Sheriff said, his helpfulness as fake as his earlier smile. He didn't seem to care about being subtle. it wasn't the best sign.

Sam smiled kindly, trying to hide his worry, “Argent, Sir. Chris Argent, Sir.”

~ ~ ~

Stiles insisted on contacting the Argent’s, as the Winchesters had just made war, and Derek needed to clear the field of any third wheel opposition. They couldn’t have the Argent’s coming in arrows-a-flying because they had broken the treaty, or code or whatever.

Stiles could care less.

The Winchesters were going to pay, whether or not the Argents agreed or not. After all, they had hurt his mate, and he wouldn’t hesitate to kill them if they got in his way. Scott and his no-killing-humans belief be stuffed.

As they came to a halt in front of Allison’s house, Stiles gave a red eyed Derek a warning, telling him not to start Argent War III.

Derek’s eyes hadn’t changed back to their normal golden-green hue since arriving at the Hale house that morning. They’d headed straight towards the Argent’s home afterwards, sending a group message to the pack to stay low.

Derek only grunted at Stiles’ request before jumping out of the Jeep and heading up to the front door. Stiles could only sigh before running after him.

“Hale.” Chris greeted as he opened the door, his hand clenching viably on the varnished wood.

“Mr. Argent.” Stiles rolled his eyes. he couldn’t tell which one was showing more emotion. Derek or Chris? He gave up when Derek started talking. 

“I’m sure Allison has already informed you of our Winchester problem.” Chris nodded, not taking his eyes off Derek’s.

Stiles cut in, “Well, they’ve just called for war. We ask that you don’t interfere.”

Chris’ gaze moved to him then. “I won’t get involved. But neither will I allow Allison to. The Winchesters are not to be trifled with and I won’t let my daughter be killed because of you and your pup.”

Derek growled at that, but nodded in acceptance with a clenched jaw.

Derek hadn’t been able to consider Scott pack since he worked with Gerard. He was still in the social pack, but barely in the wolf pack. He was basically an omega to Derek’s wolf, and he only barely tolerated him. He was lesser than Peter. That was saying something.

Stiles felt much the same after the pool incident, even if he didn’t need Scott to keep them afloat, it was being there that counted.

Scott had hung up, and that was what further resolved his reason for not telling him about who he really was. He’d been considering after Scott was turned, however he’d never worked up the courage. He was glad after that.

Scott was like a brother to him, but he couldn’t trust him to keep his secret if he wasn’t willing to put him over a girl he had just met. Not to mention the girl was a hunter.

Stiles wasn’t about to get into a relationship with a demon was he? Not to mention one related to a psycho that killed a house full of people. Some of them children.

After saying an awkward goodbye to Chris, Stiles was walking back with Derek, but halted when Derek stopped beside him. He was about to ask what was wrong when the sound of a loud engine broke the silence of the suburban street. Looking for the source of the noise and finding it, Stiles was quick to grab Derek to restrain him, and drag him to the Jeep. 

Which wasn’t an easy feat, with the Winchesters parking right behind them.

Derek had prowled from the Jeep back at his house, checking his territory for the hunters. They had gone through the home, though hadn’t touched anything inside.

However, the underlying scent of gun oil and the premium petrol saturated the air.

Even Stiles could smell the mix as they stopped behind his baby.

Thankfully all it took was a muttered ‘Derek’ to grab the alpha’s attention and to get him into the car before they pulled off the curb. Stiles was in the drivers seat the next instant and speeding away.

Both of them looked into the rear view mirror as they rounded the corner.

Stiles could only describe his feeling as unsettled when he saw two otherworldly blue eyes staring right back at him.


	6. Close Call. Or Maybe We Spoke Too Soon?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very, terribly sorry for the wait guys ;o; I had to work a 7 day week straight and they are defiantly NOT FUN ;o; ;o; ;o;
> 
> However, here's the next chapter, which a extended a bit for you, and I hope to upload the next one soon (If these overnights don't kill me first, that is)
> 
> Thank you for being patient, and I hope you like this chapter!
> 
> Again, sorry for the wait ;o;

Castiel stared after the retreating Jeep impassively.

He knew the boy was in it, but decided he wanted to confront the boy alone first. He didn’t want Dean’s temper and the hate of his siblings to get in the way.

He met Sam’s gaze when it turned questionably towards him, though Dean didn’t seem to notice as he continued his short walk up the path to the Argent residence. 

Dean raised his hand to knock, but apparently didn’t have to as the door swung open on its own, an agitated Chris Argent on the other side. The Argent’s appearance caused to throughly distract Sam from Castiel, of which the angel was thankful.

“Sorry boys, but I can’t help you on this one.” Dean was about to protest, his face already making his trademark smile, but Argent interrupted him, “There’s a reason that the wolf pack are still alive.

"And a large part of that reason is that they aren’t like the werewolves you’ve faced before. And as long as they don’t start killing innocents, I stay out of their way and them out of mine.”

“They’ve already killed innocents Chris!” Dean reasoned, his brother and Castiel coming to stand behind him.

Chris paused, looking at them collectively before sighing, “I would have thought you boys would’ve done your research properly. Apparently not.”

Dean gritted his teeth, “We have! We’ve seen the reports! We know it’s a werewolf, and the Hale kid’s arrival at that time tells us he did it! It was in revenge, for his family and when he killed his own sister in his grief, he attacked everyone that was linked to the fire, he killed Kate!”

Chris’s face was blank throughout the whole speech, not even showing a blink of grief at the mention of his sister.

“And it hasn’t even stopped, they-”

Chris held up his hand, halting Dean’s next words, “There’s always more than one side to everything, Dean. And while I admit I lost sight of that before, I’ve learnt my lesson to not do so again.  
“Leave them alone, Dean. They’re barely adults, some still children, and none of this was any of their fault.” Not even Peter’s. This was all on Kate and his father.

“Get your facts straight, and then you’ll realise I’m right.” Chris finished.

“Chris-“Dean began, only to be stopped again.

“I’ve already agreed to not get involved. Take my advice, that’s all the help I’ll give.”

Then he slammed the door in their faces'. The three hunters could only look at it in shock and silence. Chris wasn’t one to defend any supernatural, and they certainly didn’t expect them to defend the murders of his own sister.

Sam decided to break their awkward loitering, grabbing onto Dean’s jacket arm and pulling him towards the Impala, Castiel following closely behind as he expected.

Dean reluctantly moved to the driver’s seat, starting the car before they slowly pulled out, heading in the direction of their motel.

As they were driving away, Dean fumed, “He’s the best werewolf hunter out there, and he’s turned into a wimp!”

“Dean.” Sam chastised, his eyes straying to the speedometer slowly rising with Dean’s anger.

“He has!”

“I’m sure he has his reasons Dean.” Castiel said. Dean just turned his glare on the angel. Castiel stared blankly back. Dean huffed.

Sam rolled his eyes, “We should take Chris’s advice, double check the case files, talk to some actual witnesses. Maybe then we can understand where he’s coming from.”

Dean nodded, his anger leaking out as he was given direction. Taking a right on Sam’s request, he slowed as they neared the central town shopping area. Their motel was on the other side of town, and Dean felt a simmer of annoyance at having driven this far for nothing.

He wouldn’t let these monsters kill any more innocents.

He wasn’t going to let the fact that Chris didn’t want to fight this pack stop him from doing what needed to be done. Even if it meant the older hunter would never forgive them.

~ ~ ~

Stiles sighed as they entered the Stilinski home, Derek trailing behind him with a frown imbedded on his face.

They didn’t seem to notice the car parked neatly on the curb a few houses up, too caught up in the moments just passed.

They had gone back to the house, knowing the hunters were with Chris, to check what else had been broken. But it seemed only the door and Camaro had taken the most damage. The rest of the house was disheveled, though only in the sense of furniture having been moved around and books pulled from shelves to lay haphazardly across the floor. What they were looking for Stiles didn’t know.

Derek said it was them looking for any sign of who the members of the pack were, looking for any memorabilia; photos or anything similar.

Stiles thought that was both a good and bad thing.

Derek had been stiff and distant throughout the search, and Stiles had ached to comfort him other than with his sporadic words.

They had gotten Derek a change of clothes as well as any other supplies he would need until the Winchester problem was solved. The alpha had been temperamental all the way back, because he wasn’t allowed to stay and defend the Hale house.

Like Stiles was going to let his mate stay in the way of danger. He could deal with a temperamental Sourwolf. Temperamental Sourwolf was by far better than a dead one.

Stiles found himself tempted to just deal with the problem himself and kill the hunters.

He may be a bit rusty with his grace, but it was something that still came to him easily if he called for it. It would be easy.

The only hold up would be his brother, but if it came to it, he could simply send him to the other side of the country. Castiel would survive, and he would recover from his grief eventually.

But he knew a certain candy-loving brother of his would kill him for it. 

He’d also heard through the angel grape vine that the Winchesters were his Father’s favourites. 

So unless they outright attacked him and his pack, he couldn’t just murder them in their sleep. It would have to be in selfdefense for him to get away with it. Though Stiles didn’t see the difference, as his Father would probably just bring them back to life again.

Seriously, Stiles thought, how many times do the Winchesters have to die to stay dead?

Or would his Father’s favouritism last for their whole mortal lives?

Stiles shivered at the thought. He would rather run with Derek to Hell than face his Father.

“Dad, can Derek stay again tonight?” Stiles called out, knowing his dad had a day off. He began to pull Derek along with him, with the intention of heading up to his room for some research on how to kill angels, even though he already knew how. Well he couldn’t just say how without getting proof now could he? That would be a dead giveaway.

Of course, he had to make sure Derek acme to the conclusion of the third member of the Winchesters’ group being an angel. Or have him mention it.

Sometimes he wished Derek knew what he was, just so everything moved faster.

“Yes, Stiles, but if you could stop yelling, we have company!” His dad yelled back. Stiles snickered at the irony before pausing.

Stiles raised an eyebrow at Derek, showing his curiosity. They weren’t expecting guests.

Stiles made his way into the kitchen to see whom it could be, Derek following close behind him. The latter slammed into Stiles back as the younger abruptly halted.

Sitting at the kitchen table, each man with a glass of black coffee, were three men in suits. Stiles would have laughed at their impressions of what real FBI agents wear, certainly not the tacky, cheap suits they were wearing.

However the fact of who the people in suits were stopped his snicker form fully forming. 

They were the people he least wanted to see at that moment: The Winchesters.


	7. Tense Moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the wait guys ;o;, currently sick with tonsillitis and still having to work myself to death so....
> 
> It may take a while for me to get these chapters out, but this one's longer than the rest, so I hope this counts as a sorry ;o;
> 
> Thanks again to everyone for your comments and kudos, I love you guys ;o;

Stiles audibly gulped as he took in the room’s occupants. The hunters’ stares were focused solely on him, Derek’s hand subtly trying to pull him backwards and out of the room. Stiles wanted to let him, but knew the hunters had more interest in the alpha at his back, than the skinny, spastic, motor-mouth boy in front of them. He stayed where he was, hoping the Winchesters wouldn't take notice of the figure obscured slightly behind him.

“Agents, this is my son Stiles. Stiles, these are agents Wayne, Kent and Prince.” Stiles couldn’t hold back the scoff at the most obvious reference, receiving what only could be described as a suspicious look from the shorter Winchester.

“They’re here about the recent incidents, and is apparently the reason they were lurking around town.”

Stiles couldn’t believe that his Dad would believe their obvious lies over him, but seeing the look his dad was giving the hunters when they weren’t looking, showed his suspicion at their truth. 

“And that’s Derek Hale hidden behind him,” Stiles wanted to scream at his dad as soon as ‘Derek’ had left his lips.

Seeing the looks of recognition on the ‘agent’s’ faces, the Sheriff coughed awkwardly, “You should probably go to your room Stiles.” The Sheriff asked. More accurately ordered.

Stiles nodded enthusiastically, grabbing Derek’s hand. He was already pulling Derek along towards the stairs when one of the agents spoke up, halting them on the first step of the stairs.

“Derek Hale, meaning the brother of Laura Hale, a victim of the animal attacks?” Sam asked the Sheriff.

Derek grunted behind Stiles, turning around the stairs to gaze into the kitchen, and using the question as a way to keep the younger Stilinski behind himself and out of view. “I can speak for myself. Yes, Laura was my sister.”

Stiles could feel the tension in Derek from where he was pressed against his back. He wanted to be the one hiding Derek. Except the werewolf wouldn’t even let him move forward an inch.

Sam nodded, his eyes showing his fast moving thoughts. Derek continued to stand at the bannister as the ‘agent’ continued to think.

“Wasn’t it your son, Sheriff, and his best friend who discovered the body?” Sam then questioned the sheriff, who reluctantly nodded.

Stiles huffed from behind his alpha. Must everyone talk to everyone as if they weren’t all in the same room?

“And didn’t he also accuse mister Hale of his sister’s murder?” Dean cut in, his tone leaking unveiled suspicion.

Stiles bristled alongside Derek.

"I'm right here you know," Stiles said, his tone giving away his frustration.

"We know kid, but this talk is going to be with the adults so why don't you go to your room like your dad told you and walk some TV, huh?” 

Stiles bristled yet again, his eyes shining with anger.

“Right. I’m the child? Why don’t you a-hole hypocrites stop playing dres-”

“Stiles!” the Sheriff snapped. Stiles huffed in response.

The ‘agents’ all shared a look before Dean decided to speak up, “We’d like to ask you some questions Mr Hale, if you don’t mind?”

He couldn't have sounded anymore patronising.

Sam cut in, “If you don’t mind, would you like to step outside for the interview?”

Stiles was glad it was Sam, if it was Dean he wouldn't have let the older Winchester any nearer to Derek after the hostility he could feel coming off him in waves.

Dean glared at his brother before starring at Stiles face, the only thing visible of him behind Derek. And that was only because he was on his toes.

“We’d also like to interview your son, Sheriff.”

Stiles could feel Derek’s growl, which only grew louder when the older Winchester stood up.

“I can interview him,” the blue-eyed ‘agent’ spoke up, “while Agent Wayne can continue to interview the Sheriff?” Castiel stood and was already moving around the table before Dean could protest. The older nodded reluctantly but looked questionably at his blue-eyed partner as he did.

“I think that choice is mine.” the Sheriff halted the room’s movement, his deep tone creating tension in the room.

The Sheriff looked towards Stiles, the younger’s face blank behind Derek’s shoulder. He sighed, before looking back toward Castiel, “You can interview him. But only in the lounge where I can see you.”

Castiel nodded, and followed the last steps towards Derek and Stiles.

Derek stiffened and looked behind his shoulder at a surprisingly calm Stiles, the latter nodding at Derek, before moving around the protective alpha further into the lounge.

Stiles knew that outside was the best place for Derek. The house was next to the preserve, and Derek wouldn’t have to run far to escape into it’s protective wall of trees.

The alpha’s gaze followed Castiel as he sat across from Stiles on the opposite seat, before reluctantly following the taller hunter out the kitchen door into the Stilinski yard, knowing he’ll be listening for any aggressive comments towards Stiles.

And it helped knowing the Sheriff was watching. There was no way that the older Stilinski wouldn’t protect Stiles with his life.

~ ~ ~

Stiles sat on the arm of one of the sofas in the lounge, while Castiel sat on the couch opposite. He waited patiently for Derek to leave before snapping his fingers, making whatever he and Castiel talked about inaudible for those around them.

“Brother.” Castiel said stiffly in their born language.

“Brother.” Stiles replied just a stiffly.

They lapsed into silence, both brothers starring openly at the other. It was a few moments before Stiles worked up the courage to break the silence.

“Thank you for what you did, you had the courage to make a difference. To make them change. Us change. You saved what Dad cherishes most. He won’t forget that, Castiel.” Stiles said. He knew how much it must have taken for the younger angel to go against their siblings. Even he didn’t have the courage to fight, though it was mainly due to not wanting to reveal himself and loose Derek and his family.

Castiel nodded, a small but sad smile breaking across his face, “And yet I still fall, and I am still yet to find him.” He looked away to outside, as if hoping to see the person he most wanted to see appear. He could see Sam questioning Hale, his obvious alertness making him slightly worried, though he knew the younger Winchester could take care of himself.

Stiles looked on with sadness in his eyes. Castiel wasn’t the only one to miss their Father. He had been alert for his presence, though didn’t bother doing what his brother was in searching for their Father. If he wanted to be found, they would already have found him.

Castiel looked back at Stiles, a lighter smile now on his face, “But it is good to see you again, Zadkiel.” He exclaimed.

Stiles smiled, “It has been too long, Castiel. And I apologise for not being there to help you, when I could have been.”

“It is alright, I had some help.”

Stiles moved his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, “Indeed.” He said, looking in the direction that led to the kitchen. He was careful to listen out for any sounds of distress from both his father and Derek. While he would trust Castiel not to attack without warrant, he knew the Winchesters most likely weren’t the same.

When Castiel looked at him in confusion, he just shook his head in exasperation, “I think I can help you with you Falling though.”

Though Stiles was willing to kill the Winchesters for harming Derek and his pack, he wouldn’t dare hurt his brothers. Or at least this brother. He cared for Castiel deeply, but some of his other siblings had lost their way, and if it was necessary he would do it.

He took a deep breath, and reached out with his Grace, surrounding Castiel’s own and pushing to combine them. Stiles had a look of deep concentration on his face as he began to heal his brother’s Grace. It hadn’t been the first time he had to do it for his siblings that had Fallen, or a certain angel on the verge of death that had turned up on his doorstep.

That was another angel he would never harm.

Castiel could only watch in wonder as he felt his Grace become whole once again, and felt the sensation of Falling and helplessness that he’d been feeling for so long slowly ebb away.

As Stiles finished, he let lose a yawn, his eyes drooping in sleep. Castiel had to move fast to catch his brother before he fell over in his unconsciousness. Placing Stiles on the seat he just vacated, he could only look fondly at his older brother as he slept, before his attention was grabbed by a loud shout.

~ ~ ~

The stairs leading from the back door creaked in warning under the weight of the two males as they walked further into the Stilinskis’ back yard. The frost covered lawn of mid earl winter crunched under the men’s feet as the sound of the branches moving in the wind filled their ears.

Neither spoke at first, the two males only stood staring at each other in silence.

“Well Mr. Hale-“Sam started.

“What do you want, Winchester?” Derek interrupted, just wanting to get back to Stiles. He didn’t care for the Winchesters’ games. He didn’t like knowing he was alone with the hunter, and made sure to keep his ear out for any signs of distress. 

Sam paused, before taking a more defensive stance, “You know who we are?”

Derek snorted, “Of course I do. Not only are you obviously not police in the car that you drive, but you also made the stupid mistake of breaking into my home leaving your scent,” he growled, “we have done nothing to merit your attack. We’ve killed nobody innocent. Just ask Argent.”

Sam raised a brow. So it was true that Argent had an agreement with the wolves, “And what of those that died in the animal attacks? They were obviously done by werewolves.”

Derek clenched his jaw, “It was a rogue alpha. It killed my sister to gain its power. We handled it.”

“We?” Sam asked.

“My pack.” Derek replied, his eyes flashing alpha red.

Sam flinched, unconsciously reaching for his gun, with Derek reacting with the lengthening of his claws, “We don’t want to fight, and I’m willing to forgive your insult of breaking into my home, but only if you leave.”

Sam paused.

He knew that Chris wouldn’t spare any supernatural without a good reason, and for him to even try to stop them from pursing the pack was a big sign towards the alpha telling the truth. He nodded, “I’ll have to talk to my partners.”

He’d have to have a chat with Dean. He was the main one with the need to kill the pack. Of course, he’d need some solid evidence to truly persuade him, “I’ll also need your side of what’s ben happening. I won’t be able to properly convince them without the knowledge of what really happened.”

Derek was about to reply, when he heard Stiles heart begin to slow abnormally. He knew there was no possibility that Stiles wouldn’t fall asleep in such a moment.

“Stiles!” he yelled.

~ ~ ~

Dean spent his time asking the Sheriff about the multiple animal attacks, and the disappearance of Peter Hale. Dean was curious as to where he went, and whether he was the alpha of the pack, the younger Hale he assumed was the beta, as it seemed logical that the oldest Hale was the alpha. He had begun to ask the Sheriff of the address of Deaton’s vet clinic, to ask about the autopsy comparison between sets of animals, when a loud shout of “Stiles!” grabbed their attention.

Dean followed after the Sheriff as he ran to the lounge, where a sleeping Stiles lay on the couch, Derek standing protectively over him as he bared his fangs at Castiel. Dean immediately drew his gun, pointing it right between the werewolf’s glowing red eyes.

“Stop, Dean.” Castiel said calmly, his eyes never leaving Derek’s.

“Not a chance Cas,” he said with a shake of the head, “and you fur ball, on your knees.” But Derek didn’t back down, he simply shifted his gaze to Dean. The hatred-filled glare sent his way was unnerving, though Dean would never admit it. The red eyes held such intimidation, that the fangs and claws weren’t even needed to make Dean want to take a step backwards. Not that he let himself.

“Enough, Derek.”

Derek’s eyes flickered to the Sheriff, his gaze confused at the older man’s calm attitude, and slowly he shifted back, his claws and teeth receding, though his glowing red eyes remained in place. Though he didn’t move, still standing guard in front of Stiles.

“I think you three need to explain yourselves, and Derek? Would you mind taking Stiles up to his room?” Derek nodded stiffly, before picking up Stiles limp form and carrying him up the stairs, making sure to keep his body shielding the younger Stilinski.

“And keep the door open!” the sheriff yelled after their disappearing form.

“Sir, he’s a monster. You need to-“Dean began.

“I would think you would know better than anyone not to judge people by what their born as.” The Sheriff said, his head nodding pointedly in the direction of Castiel, who stiffened. “It was obvious you men aren’t officers.

“Just because you used the excuse of wanting to be anonymous doesn’t fool the worst of cops. And those fake IDs don’t fool the best. They also don’t drive vintage cars.” He turned his gaze to Castiel, “I’m guessing you’re the reason that Stiles isn’t conscious?”

Castiel nodded, “He helped heal my Grace.”

The Sheriff nodded, while the Winchester brothers just looked on wide eyed, shocked at Castiel’s honesty. “I sensed from you the same thing I did from Stiles when he was a boy; I can never forget that feeling of, well, insignificance.” the Sheriff chuckled. Castiel nodded once again.

“So who are you really?” the Sheriff asked them, his gaze falling mainly on the two brothers.

“That is Dean Winchester,” Castiel explained, pointing at the shorter brother, “and that is Sam Winchester.” Castiel said, pointing then at the other brother. “And I am Castiel.”

“Winchester?” the sheriff asked, his brow furrowing, “as in the two brothers that helped stop the apocalypse?”

The brothers nodded hesitantly, now taking notice of the gun in the Sheriff’s hands, “How’d you hear about us?” Dean asked suspiciously. It wasn’t something that was known except to most of the hunting and monster communities.

“Stiles brother,” the Sheriff replied, “he’s the reason Stiles told me the truth. And he sure was an energetic pain, no wonder Stiles left his old home.”

While the brothers looked questionably at the Sheriff, Castiel’s head tilted in response, “What was his name?”

“Gabriel, but he said he preferred the term ‘the trickster’.”


	8. A Brother and A Son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again about the wait guys, real life sucks sometime ;o; while I wanted to work on this chapter more, I didn't want to keep you guys waiting; it may seem a bit rushed because of that.
> 
> I'll try harder with the next chapter!
> 
> I'd also like to thank you guys! 500 Kudos!!!! ;u; I never thought I get this many, though I hoped!
> 
> Thanks so much!

Sam could feel the heavy beat of his heart as he heard the angel’s name.

Gabriel.

The turmoil of thoughts that erupted with the mention of that name, the anger, grief and want, were pushed to the back of his mind as the Sheriff continued speaking.

“I think you boys had better take a seat. It’s going to be a long talk.”

The Sheriff was the first to sit when no one made the move to follow his request. Castiel and Sam, and then a reluctant Dean then took their seats. 

Upon sitting, John let out a heavy sigh that had his body slouching in exhaustion, however his gun still sat firmly in his hands, “First of all, why’re you boys really in Beacon County?”

Sam reluctantly spoke when Dean and Castiel remained silent, “We’re investigating the deaths that have happened in the past two years, which we suspected were the attacks of the local werewolves. One of which who you just sent your son up with, sir.”

The Sheriff nodded, ignoring the not subtle warning about Derek. “Well you don’t have to worry, those problems have been taken care of.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at that and cut in, “How’re you sure? You yourself said in your reports that they were animal attacks. And just this year, nearly your whole police department was killed in an attack. Excuse me for thinking that the situation has been handled.”

“The first attacks were by a rogue alpha, of which was driven insane by losing his pack, his family, I might add, when they were murdered by hunters.” the Sheriff gave them a depreciating stare. “And in the end it was Derek that had to kill him. His own uncle.” The Sheriff paused to throw a glare at Dean when he huffed, “And you go harassing the boy for murders that he didn’t commit, and just reminds him of having lost his only remaining family.”

Dean clenched his jaw.

“The second murders were by a murderous kanima. And yet again in the end came back to hunters, or the Argents to be precise. And thankfully Chris Argent agreed to a truce after the incidents, instead of deciding to throw a Kate Argent and massacring the remaining pack, which consists to this day of almost completely teenagers. Tell me, Winchesters, whether you would be proud of murdering innocent children, because of what they are, whether they chose to become it or not. You’re blaming everything on a group of werewolves, simply because they’re supernatural creatures. When they’re the ones keeping everyone safe from the supernatural of this hellmouth.”

Sam and Castiel nodded with regret upon their faces, while Dean’s face was set stern, not wanting to accept the Sheriff’s story, “So then what’s the deal with your kid?”

“Stiles is-“The Sheriff started.

“Stiles is my brother, the archangel Zadkiel.” Castiel cut in.

At Castiel’s statement Dean and Sam both blanched, “So it’s true? But he’s just a kid! I thought you said your brother disappeared ages ago? Are we to expect that Zadkiel has been in this kid for his whole life?”

The older Stilinski’s sigh proved his growing age as he drew the focus back to himself.

“When Stiles was born, he wasn’t breathing and there was no heartbeat.” John explained with a somber smile. “Finally, as though mine and my wife’s prayers were answered, my son’s little body started moving and there was a cry. A miracle, that’s what everyone said.”

“17 years ago,” Castiel cut in, “after Father disappeared, Zadkiel vanished from Heaven, no trace was found of him. Many thought him dead, or that he had run. He was one of the last vocal angels alongside myself that stood with the humans and Father’s belief in them. At least, he kept with his beliefs as long as he could.” Castiel’s resigned smile told of his brother’s eventual surrender. Castiel looked to his hands to hide the deep sadness in his eyes.

“I always thought something was special about him,” the Sheriff continued, “but like I said before, I didn’t find out until Stiles’ brother turned up.”

Sam’s heart sped but he contained his emotions under a blank mask. “What do you mean by brother? Didn’t you call him a trickster before?” Sam questioned, trying to fight the feeling of bile crawling up his throat. 

The Sheriff gave Sam a contemplative look, as though he knew there was more behind his question. “A few years ago a man appeared on our doorstep, looking for Stiles, bleeding out and on the verge of death. I didn’t know what to think, but then Stiles came out of nowhere, as if he sensed something was wrong.”

His eyes moved to the door, as if seeing the moment that his life was tilted on its axis for the second time since his wife’s death, replay before his eyes.

“He had called Stiles 'brother’, before reaching for him. I was startled to say the least but then Stiles had reached out for him too. I was about to get in between them when the room had been filled with such warmth, and then the man was completely healed, not a single scratch was left. Of course, Stiles had fallen unconscious and I had freaked out.” John sighed, “But then the man had explained what he was, and when Stiles awoke later, he explained he was the same thing: an angel.

“He had cried so much afterwards, fearing what I would do or say, fearing that I would no longer love him, no longer see him as my son.”

The Sheriff looked up at the hunters with intense determination.

“But I did, and I always will consider him as my son. He may have originally been this Zadkiel, but from the day he entered my life he has been Stiles, and that is what he’ll stay. And if you ever attempt to take him from me, or cause those he loves harm, I will gladly throw away being Sheriff to hunt you down and hurt you in ways even you hunters can’t imagine.”

The Sheriff’s words put the remaining people in the room on edge, and silence filled the room as the hunters couldn’t meet the intense eyes of the elder Stilinski.

“And this brother, what was he like?” Sam spoke with a dry cough, ignoring the suspicious look that Dean threw his way as he broke the heavy silence, as if he knew Sam knew something he didn’t. And tried to not dwell on the surprisingly knowledgeable look that Castiel bestowed.

Sam knew he had to know. Had to know if Gabriel had survived, had to know the why to so many questions that were left unanswered.

The Sheriff looked at him with a raise of his eyebrow, one that displayed his own curiosity, but after a few moments of studying Sam’s face, he replied.


	9. Unwanted Interruption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's just say I'm horrible at updating ;o; 
> 
> I'm sorry! But at least, here's the next chapter ;o;
> 
> ;o;o;o;o;o;o;o;o;o;

Derek stared impassively at the wall next to the bedroom door, not knowing what to think. His mind was confusedly blank after hearing what was said downstairs. In a way it was as if everything finally fit into place; a puzzle now solved.

He looked towards the resting form beside him on the bed, holding back the urge to feel Stiles’s heartbeats, instead satisfying himself with the slow rise and fall of the others’ chest.

Derek had wondered a lot, how Stiles had lived so long after everything that had gone wrong in Beacon Hills, how he’d survived. How Stiles, a human had somehow throughout it all known what needed to be done for every supernatural creature that appeared. Even now as everything was finally quiet in Beacon Hills, excluding the Winchesters’ arrival, Stiles had done everything that was necessary for the pack to grow.

He’d been the one to volunteer to help Derek write up the treaty between the Hale Pack and the Argents. Had been the one to get into contact with the necessary people to get the house back into Derek’s hands, and Stiles had been the one to call the workmen to demolish the house; had stood next to him holding his hand as they tore his ancestral home to shreds. And he’d been there as he built it back up again, always offering his hand, and would always bring along lunch for more than even he could eat in one serving, and leave the rest behind. As if he knew he slept in his car and only ate when he had the effort to leave to grab food. 

Stiles had been the one to find Erica and Boyd. Derek had never asked how he had, he didn’t think he needed to, after all he had is two pack mates back. And Stiles had brought Peter back too.   
Peter had stayed around, hadn’t reacted to the Hale house being torn down and rebuilt like Derek thought he would have. He would only stare at the skeleton that was slowly growing limbs with a blank expression before leaving, coming back every so often to see the state of the house as it was slowly being finished.

But even as he lingered in Beacon Hills and made the odd jump from the shadows in appearance, Derek knew it wasn’t the Uncle Peter he knew before the fire. He had always been the silly uncle, the one everyone hated but loved at the same time. He had been Derek’s confidant and big brother figure. After everything that had happened since he had met Kate, since the fire, every time Peter looked at him all he could feel was such hatred, and it ate him alive for days afterwards. Because he knew it was his fault that his uncle was no longer there.

But Stiles had somehow, someway returned his uncle Peter. Peter wasn’t exactly the same, Derek would never expect him to be, but after Stiles had dragged Peter out of the house after a particularly harsh insult to his nephew, and had disappeared for over an hour, Peter had returned and the first thing he’d done was walk up to Derek and hug him. Derek hadn’t moved for a whole minute before he had latched onto his uncle, not wanting to let go. His uncle had murmured apologies into his ear, and Derek had murmured them back even as he buried face into his remaining family pack-member’s neck to hide his tears.

His uncle may never be the uncle he remembered before the fire, but he could hardly not want this one. Peter’s old light-hearted humour turned to harsh sarcasm, and his common light touches to heavy inconsistent ones; they were all still him.

The strange occurrences continued to happen after that. Stiles always seeming to be at the centre of everyone. Derek’s wolf had begun to see Stiles as a potential mate, and Derek had been inclined to agree with his wolf, but knew that he would never act on it. He would never be like Kate.

But through that revelation he had realised that Stiles had never treated him unfairly, or with hate or disgust for what he was or his mistakes. Stiles had tried to convince him they weren’t his, but even if he believed him, a part of himself would always blame himself for his family’s deaths.

So he’d let his interests boil in the pit of his consciousness, but even then his wolf would break though and treat Stiles as he would his mate, with possessiveness, protectiveness and coddling. He had been finding it harder recently to hide it, to fight his wolf for control. He began to think it was mainly because he didn’t want to.

Then he had remembered his first meeting with Scott and Stiles, had watched the two boys infatuation with Argent and the Martin girl, so he began to think that Stiles was simply pitying him. When he’d finally cracked and confided in Peter for the first time in almost eight years, the older Hale had said he was over thinking, and that he’d seen with his own eyes that Stiles cared about him. More than a simple infatuation or friendship.

And now this.

Everything made sense to Derek now. How Stiles had survived all the shit Beacon Hills had thrown their way. And he supposed that was why he cared, was because of what he was. Weren’t angels meant to care? But then, the angel Castiel was working with the hunters to kill them, so Derek supposed, that perhaps being a ‘monster’ as they put it didn’t count. He felt so confused and in a way, hurt.

Derek stiffened as he felt the bed shift, and his eyes moved to follow the movement, eventually coming to rest on Stiles’ open hazel eyes. They were filled with such a sullen sadness that Derek opened his mouth, moving it, trying to form words that would make it go away, but found none leaving in sound.

Tears began to slip from the corners of his eyes, and Derek couldn’t bite back a whine, slipping to his knees beside the bed, his hands twitching, not knowing what to do to make him stop crying, to make his mate stop crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Stiles began to mutter as he futilely tried to stop the flow of tears with his shaking hands.

“Don’t.” Derek chocked out, forcing the word through the lump lodged in his throat.

Stiles just cried harder, hiccupping, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I wanted to, I just-“

“Please stop!” Derek barked out, making Stiles flinch and curl into himself.

“Please,” Derek continued in a softer voice. “Please stop crying, Stiles. I…I don’t care. You’re still you, and I wouldn’t tell me if I was in your situation, I understand.”

And it was true, Derek realised. He didn’t care. And he wouldn’t have even if Stiles turned out to be anything else, he could be a vampire for all Derek would care.

Stiles looked up into Derek’s eyes, searching them for any lies. Then he laughed, and kept laughing, getting louder and higher, verging on hysterical before he launched himself at Derek, smashing their lips together as he wound his limps like tentacles around the werewolf.

Derek stared wide at Stiles’ closed eyes before slowly relaxing into the kiss, wrapping his own arms around Stiles, taking the angel’s weight as he leaned closer. Derek’s wolf purred as Stiles opened his mouth to let Derek in, not needing to tease the wolf’s tongue before it was mapping out his mouth.

Then Stiles starts leaning back, pulling Derek with him to lay atop him, his legs keeping his wolf close. Stiles tries to hold back a groan as Derek’s groin rubs his own, and doesn’t bother hold the next as the werewolf begins to lay kisses down his neck.

“D-Derek,” Stiles moans.

“Really little bro, what would your daddy think if he saw you being mauled by Scary, Hairy and Handsome here?”

Stiles groaned, and not in an aroused way as Derek froze, Stiles tightening arm around his chest the only thing keeping him from ripping the intruder’s throat out on instinct.

“Gabe.”

“Zadi-poo.”


	10. Gabriel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience guys ;o; Here's the next chapter, sorry again for the wait!

The Sheriff described Gabriel to a ‘t’, even including his sweets addiction, Sam couldn’t help but hope that it really was the annoying archangel that visited the Stilinski residence. But with the hope came the simmering anger. 

He had prayed every night since the angel’s death. He’d hoped for him to hear them, wherever he was, trying not to give away the little piece of hope that the archangel had faked his death. Meanwhile withstanding the pitying, yet understanding looks from their tag along angel. 

“Sorry Sammy, but what’d you expect from me, I was meant to be dead ya know.”

Sam froze, but when everyone else in the room didn’t, he knew they either hadn’t heard him, or Gabriel was speaking inside his head. Sam was leaning towards the latter with a sense of heavy foreboding.

“You always were the smarter of you Powerpuff Girls, Samsquatch.” A familiar voice announced from the stairway.

All heads snapped in Gabriel’s direction, as he sat at the bottom of the stairs, munching on a bag of Skittles with gusto.

“Gabriel.” Castiel announced, his eyes gleaming in his happiness and his mouth upturned in a smile.

“Cassie, how’s things in the Fatherland? Heard from Pops yet?”

Castiel shook his head, his smile diminished. “He will still not show himself, but things are growing more stable with our siblings.”

Gabriel gave his brother a strained smile. “If there’s anyone Dad will show himself to, it would be you, Cassie.”

Castiel’s smile returned easily with the encouragement.

“We’re not going to have to kill you again are we?” Dean asked.

Sam shot him a glare, while Gabriel smiled devilishly. “I dunno, Deano, why do you ask? Trigger finger itching again is it?”

Dean’s jaw clenched, and he opened his mouth about to retort when a hand shot out to smack the short archangel. “Gabe, stop egging the hunters. You should know better than that.”

Stiles walked past the archangel with a yawn, heading straight for the fridge while Derek lingered near the Sheriff, between the hunters and Stiles. Gabriel pouted.

“But it’s so fun! Really, you should try it. Have a go at the trickster trade for a while, you’ll love it.”

Stiles rolled his eyes before turning back to the fridge in search of some food.

Gabriel sighed, “Really, Z, it’s not like you can forget you’re an archangel,” he said and with a snap of his fingers a lavish roast laid itself on the kitchen table.

Stiles gave his brother a thankful smile before grabbing plates and dishing some out, giving Derek a large portion because he knew how much the werewolf needed to eat before he was sated.  
Seating himself at the dining table, he began to slowly work his way through his afternoon dinner. The others watched him, some with confusion at his lack of awareness, the others with fond resignation.

When Derek decided to finally take the spot given to him by Stiles placement of his plate, Stiles was already done. The teen’s gaze suddenly sharpened, and Stiles grinned.

It could defiantly be described by those in the room as devilish.

The snapping of his fingers echoed like its’ ominous representation.

Gabriel gained a similar grin when he met his brother’s gaze.

Castiel made a wounded noise, Dean looking to him in alarm, “Cas?”

“Don’t Castiel,” Stiles began, his gaze sharp as he looked at his brother. “He needs to learn a lesson on the effects his choices make on others.”

With that, Stiles got up to grab seconds of Gabriel’s feast, returning to his vacated spot before yet again starting on his meal. Castiel had a deep frown on his face, though seemed to refuse to even look in both Stiles’ and Dean’s direction.

Derek had still yet to start his own meal by the time Stiles was finished, and the younger pouted at the stiff postured wolf. Seeing the tension, he gave a heavy sigh before looking towards the still lingering hunters.

Gabriel was seemingly captivated by the bag of M&Ms he now held in his hands.

“So,” Stiles began. “Seeing how everyone now knows who’s really who and everything has been explained etcetera, what say we have a truce and part ways?” Stiles asked, his tone light, contradicting the seriousness of the situation.

“Well, you three might wanna hang around for a bit longer.” Gabriel said to the hunters, his mouth chewing through a fistful of his sweets.

“Gabriel, why are you here? I figure you wouldn’t have just appeared even if we discovered you were alive, if it wasn’t for an important reason.” Sam reasoned.

“Exactly right, Sammy, while I didn’t expect you three to be here, it may work to our advantage.”

“Our advantage?” Derek asked.

“Yep,” Gabriel said, popping the ‘p’, “I came here to warn dog lover here that he has an incoming Alpha Pack, and not a nice one either. This one’s here for war, they aren’t about to negotiate during high tea. And the alpha’s trouble, big trouble. He won’t die by normal means, trust me.”

Stiles could tell by Gabriel’s serious tone how bad this pack would turn out to be if they weren’t dealt with immediately. He looked towards the hunters, and could see that they had realised the same thing. “How far are they?.”

“Half a week, a week tops, depends if they pause to send out a scouting party first.”

“Right,” Stiles said as he rubbed his eyes, walking over to the still warm food, before placing plates filled to the brim on the open settings on the table. Calling everyone over, there was only slight hesitation before everyone picked a seat.

Gabriel stole Dean’s seat next to Sam, much to the older Winchester’s displeasure. It left him with the remaining seat next to Castiel as Stiles and Derek had positioned themselves close to the Sheriff.

“Would you be willing to help us?” Stiles began, feeling the tension in the room as everyone didn’t even start eating.

“And why would we help you?” Dean asked.

“Is it not what we do, Dean?” Castiel asked, “We rid the world of the supernatural, which is a hunter’s job. Besides, Zadkiel saved me, my Grace no longer is burning away. I, at least, owe him my allegiance.”

Dean sighed. He knew they could never leave Cas to fight by himself. “Fine, what’s the plan?”

Stiles smiled, “I knew there was a reason my brother follows you around like a lost puppy,” Castiel blushed, “you may be a douche Winchester, but at least you have loyalty.”

Dean’s eye twitched. “Well?”

Stiles smirked, “It’s time to call a pack meeting.”


	11. Tensions and Rifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I'm honestly so sorry about the wait, my life's been a storm of bad thing after bad thing happening and it's been a complete shitaki storm. ;o;
> 
> But here's the next chapter, and I want to give a big thank you to those who have kept reading and gave kudos.
> 
> thanks heaps guys ;o;

They had decided to leave the pack meeting for the next day, after school let out. 

Meanwhile Stiles, Castiel and Gabriel would work on a way for the wolves to kill the alphas, without revealing Stiles’ identity, hopefully, while Derek would help the Winchesters in understanding their unique breed of werewolf.

Stiles knew he should tell the other wolves about himself, with both Derek and Peter knowing now, but he just didn’t want to. They didn’t need to know, and in truth, he only wanted Derek to know. To him he was the only one that needed to.

They decided that Stiles should inform the pack of the meeting during school so they knew what to expect, or more of whom to expect. So here he was, sitting through another science lesson, only made better by Isaac’s comical drawing. Though he hated Isaac the moment that he failed to stifle a laugh, and got the attention of Mr Harris.

“Mr Stilinski, perhaps you would like to share with the class as to what you find so hilarious?”

Stiles cringed. Mr Harris was one of the humans that Stiles could agree with his siblings about. He was cruel to students and really, if he didn’t like his job so much, perhaps becoming a teacher was the wrong choice for him. Maybe he should have been an evil mad scientist. Stiles wondered over whether that was a real thing, but could only come up with a cartooned villain Harris.  
“No, sir.” Stiles answered.

“Well then, perhaps you would like to share with us the answer to this equation.” He pointed to the board.

Stiles blinked, “2Na OH, sir.”

Some in the class snickered behind their hands as Harris’ face grew redder, though Stiles knew there was no way he could give him a detention after getting the answer right. And thankfully that’s when the bell rang, though Stiles wasted no time collecting his things and running out the door.

He heard the pack laughing behind him as they made their way to the cafeteria, knowing that as soon as they sat down he’d have to announce the news. He wasn’t looking forward to it, knowing that it wasn’t going to go smoothly, mainly with the wolves.

Everyone took their seats at the usual table and in the usual places, couples all squeezing together leaving Stiles next to Isaac. Erica and Boyd might not have been official, but everyone knew they were a thing, and so stayed far out of their way as often as possible. 

Isaac had felt even more awkward being Erica and Boyd’s closest friend, and Stiles had taken it upon himself to grow closer to the puppy-like wolf so he wasn’t so alone. The loud chatter that filled the room was equally aided by his own friends, and when subtle coughing that progressed to yelling didn’t work, Stiles resulted to the words that guaranteed attention.

“I’m pregnant.”

And for a few seconds the pack’s little table was the quietest in the cafeteria, then the yelling started.

“What the fuck Stiles?!” was the main exclamation.

“I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I?” Stiles shrugged.

Most of the pack looked affronted, with Lydia rolling her eyes in exasperation and Isaac snickering behind his hand. Ah, Stiles thought, sweet loyal Isaac.

“Well, Stilinski? Get on with it.” Jackson barked.

“Pack meeting tonight, my house.”

Scott’s head turned in that adorable way when he was confused, “Aren’t we avoiding pack activity, and why isn’t Derek the one telling us?”

Stiles paused for a moment considering how he should break the news to the pack, before deciding to just give it to them plainly, like ripping off a Band-Aid. 

“Well, the hunters are no longer a problem, as we’ve come to a mutual agreement. That agreement being our alliance against a common enemy.” Stiles pauses to consider his next words, “Who happens to be an incoming alpha pack most likely bent on the annihilation of the Hale pack.”

There was belated silence, the pack blinking repetitively as they processed what he said. Stiles couldn’t help but wring his hands together under the table, waiting for the inevitable out lash. Attention Deficit Disorder affected angels too you know; look at Gabe for example. 

As expected everyone seemed to reach the conclusion at the same time. Well, except for Scott.

Stiles had to cover his ears from the yelling the pack was doing overtop each other, and was glad that it was incoherent, as otherwise their cover as ‘normal’ teenagers would have been blown with the heights their yelling was reaching. Though Stiles had to wonder how it hadn’t been already.

“Enough!”

The pack halted, some mid-sentence with their mouths still open, and looked at Stiles in shock, is outburst having silenced the entire cafeteria. However, it seemed to last only a moment before the onslaught of teenage conversations began again.

Allison was the first to speak when the silence became a heavy weight, with a look of contemplation on her face, “The Winchesters agreed to team up with us? If it was me and Dad I could understand, but the pack? I couldn’t see them agreeing to anything with us, I mean the only reason they work with their pet angel is because of what they went through together. And if you ask me, because he’s not smart enough to be a threat.”

Stiles saw the look of mixed jealousy and disgust before Allison had finished the sentence, and though he could understand her emotions, after all the Winchesters were probably every hunters’ idols, it still didn’t stop the anger from rising to the surface.

“The reason,” Stiles bit out through clenched teeth, “that they’ve even agreed to alliance, is all because of that ‘not smart enough angel’, whose name is Castiel, who by the way is older than your family line. You better not forget that Argent.”

Which was true, seeing how it was Castiel’s relationship to Stiles that meant that the pack now had their powerful allies.

Allison couldn’t hold back a flinch as Stiles’ harsh tone, and felt the flush of embarrassment and shame at his words, though didn’t let it show. Scott, however was quick to react to Stiles’ defensive tone.

“Hey!” he growled, his eyes flashing amber, “back off Stiles, she didn’t say anything that requires you to attack her like that!”

Stiles didn’t hold back the chuckle that rose, “I just find it ironic that she thinks of Cassie as a mere fledgling, when it was him that helped stop his people from decimating ours. She should just remember that the next time she thinks to insult a creature millennia older in age than herself.”

Scott’s teeth clenched, but for once used his brain, and stayed silent, though didn’t hesitate to stooping to a death glare to the side of Stiles’ head.  
Stiles just ignored him, and looked towards to Lydia who he knew would have a sensible question.

Lydia was watching him with intelligent eyes, but answered his promoting eyes with a question, “An alpha pack? Made entirely of alphas? How does that dynamic work? What are they after? Just our packs destruction, or something more?”

Stiles smiled inwardly. Lydia was really a jewel.

If it wasn’t for him seeing Derek’s soul first, perhaps he might have fallen for her in the beginning. Maybe. But her soul still made him want to protect her, it was the reason he had faked a crush on her in the beginning, though Jackson stopped that plan from the beginning, stopping him from getting close, even as a friend in order to watch over her closely. So he just had to from afar. Stiles had been able to tell that she would become a banshie, but he knew that she wouldn’t become a monster, just something more beautiful.

Stiles coughed as he cleared his thoughts. He had more troubling matters to attend to.

“Yeah, the summary is that the leader makes alphas murder their pack, before they join him, and it’s kinda just a continued line of that…so…yeah, they’re not nice, and that kind of sums up their intentions…” Stiles trailed off.

The pack had gone pale faced, with everyone touching in comfort, Stiles having his own personal heater in the form of Issac who had latched onto his arm in a painfully strong grip. Well, it would have been if he was human.

And Scott, well he was always going to jump in to be the voice of unreason, “Why can’t we just warn them off, tell them to leave?”

Stiles sighed, “Scott…”

“No! Why do people always have to die? Why can’t we just live normal lives without all this killing, and fighting, and pain?”

Stiles looked at him with fierce eyes, “We’re not normal Scott. That changed ages ago, and we can’t go back, so we have to be brave and move forward.”

Scott’s fists clenched from where they sat atop the table, “How would you know, Stiles? You’re human, you don’t know what it’s like. And besides, where do you get room to talk about my life, when it was your fault I even got turned.”

Stiles felt as though he’d been slapped, and a cold chill ran through his body.

He’d always regretted asking Scott into the forest that night. He’d become too comfortable in his skin, in the human world, where there were no monsters lurking in every shadow. It had been a rude awakening when Scott had been bitten, but he’d done everything to help him, support him, even though anyone else would have ran if they were in his position.

Stiles stood, not looking Scott in the eye. He didn’t deserve the right to see the broken sadness he knew were in his eyes. He stepped away from the table, turning his back to the pack, even as Issac clambered after him.

“The meeting is at six. Be there if you’re willing to fight for what’s ours.”


	12. Grudges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update because I've been lacking lately ;o;

Dean hadn’t taken Stiles’ surprise well.

When he’d gone outside with his brother and Castiel, he found the rusted empty shell of his beautiful Impala, he’d struggled to hold back the whimper, not as successful with his tears.

Sending a look towards Castiel, the latter had glanced toward the house and that had been enough for Dean to send him marching into the Stilinski home.

Stiles had immediately looked up with a smirk, and when Dean had gone for a hit, Gabriel had been faster than Derek in stopping him.

Stiles had then said, “It’s punishment, hunter. You need to learn the lesson of patience, as well as some trust. You attached an innocent person, without all the facts, and ruined one of his only possessions. Figure out how fix those mistakes and maybe I’ll return your car back to normal.”

Dean had wanted to spit venom at the teen, but being frozen didn’t help him.

He’d eventually been taken back to the hotel room to calm down, though he was still extremely sour about the whole issue. Of course it didn’t help that castiel refused to help in any way.

~ ~ ~

“So, how did you and Castiel’s brother meet?” Sam asked conversationally, to fill the silence that had engulfed them as soon as the brothers had arrived back at the Stilinski residence.

Castiel and Gabriel had both gone on a brotherly bonding trip to keep surveillance over the incoming alpha pack, while the Winchesters were going to be given an impromptu lesson on how to fight Derek Hale’s breed of werewolf.

Sam was trying to act as an intermediary between the Hale and his brother, but it was difficult when they were both as bad as each other when it came to emotions and actually vocalising them.  
Though Hale seemed to have an issue with just talking in general in Sam’s opinion.

It was hard for him though, what with Gabriel being alive, and all that. He sighed, he’d lasted five minutes this time, before he thought about him.

Dean looked at him with a sour look, and Derek just looked constipated.

“The woods.” was all he said.

Sam smiled, it was a start after all.

“‘The woods’?” Dean asked sceptically, “You take the big bad wolf act to the extreme don’t you, Hale.”

The leather clad man growled, his eyes flashing crimson, before he turned around heading in the direction of the house’s yard.

“Hey! Where’re you going?” Dean yelled.

“Outside. Join me when you’re ready to learn how to fight.”

Dean let out a growl, before throwing his arms up and looking a Sam with a withering look.

“Why you thought this was a good idea, and that it would work out I have no idea.”

Sam sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day, before grabbing his brother by his arm and dragging him through the back door, where the Hale boy was standing, minus his leather jacket and shirt which now were draped across the deck and was showing off his impressive muscle count. Dean glared, huffing.

“You want to know how to fight us? Then you need to learn.” Hale stated.

Dean’s jaw clenched, though he obediently followed his brother to stand in front of the werewolf. Derek eyed him and his brother, before turning around, “Follow me.”

The brothers followed the werewolf as they made their way into the forest, the path unmarked, trusting the shirtless alpha to lead them in hopes of it not being to their deaths.

Sam spent the first minutes studying the tattoo engraved on the alphas back, the swirling triskelion, and couldn’t resist the urge to ask.

“What does it mean?”

The werewolf didn’t halt in his pace, though he did glance back, and seeing Sam’s pointed look at his back, turned back around.

Sam didn’t think he was going to answer him, but a few moments later Hale spoke.

“Alpha, beta, omega. Pack, that’s what it means. What it stands for.” he paused, “and how easy the lines can be crossed.”

Sam opened his mouth to ask what he meant, when Derek announced their arrival, and his jaw closed sharply.

Ahead of them was a clearing, as big as a school field, if not bigger. Its edges were guarded by the tall pines of the preserve, and was filled with lush grass intermingled with the dead leaves of the passing autumn. The leaves crunched under their feet as they made their way to the centre.

“This is where Stiles wants us to meet them.”

It took awhile for Sam to find the conclusion that he meant the alpha pack, but he couldn’t help but think, when he did, that Castiel’s brother made the right decision.

The dense trees could hide any possible allies that they wanted to conceal, and with three angels on backup, they could scout out any of the alpha pack hiding there, giving them a big advantage. The height of the trees could hide a sniper or archer in their branches, and would make them harder to be reached by any of the invading pack. It would give them a big advantage if they use it as theirs.

Dean had apparently come to the same conclusion as he nodded towards Derek with approval. Sam followed straight after, just in case the alpha was waiting for a conformation.

He grunted in answer, before facing them with an unpleasant look plastered on his face, with his arms crossed gruffly over his chest.

“Now,” he said, his mouth starting to curl into a wicked smirk, “learning time.”

~ ~ ~

Castiel and Gabriel arrived later that evening to dirty covered Winchesters laid heaving upon the Stilinski living room floor, with Derek Hale and Stiles smirking at them from the couch. Gabriel joined them with his own smirk.

“Don’t say anything.” Dean glared up from his position on the floor.

Gabriel huffed a sigh, while Castiel smiled at the elder Winchester, before with a flash he and Dean were clean. Dean beamed as Castiel, while Gabriel didn’t even try to stifle his snicker at the look on Dean’s face at seeing Cas.

The elder turned his glare on him, but the archangel just smirked again.

“How did you go?” Stiles asked, standing from the couch, with Derek standing quickly after him.

Gabriel turned his smirk on Derek then, but looked at Stiles when he answered, “Tomorrow night at the latest.”

And like that the mood sobered, taking on a somber tinge. Stiles looked towards the clock, seeing they had an hour before the pack would arrive, so he gave an excuse of making some snacks, dragging Derek with him. Sam, while wanting to talk to Gabriel, knew he wouldn’t be able to with Dean in the same room, so offered his help.

Castiel and Dean were looking at each other, the somber mood lightening enough for them to share a small smile with the other, which of course was ruined by Gabriel.

“Well, I hate to ruin the Romeo Juliet moment, but I need to speak to Dean, brother mine.” At the look Castiel sent sent him, Gabriel had to roll his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt your princess Castiel, now be a good knight in shining armour and let us have a little, no-violent chat.”

Castiel opened his mouth to protest, but all it took was a look from Gabriel before he became ridged and left the room for the kitchen.

Dean stared after the angel with a betrayed look, before settling his glare on the archangel, “What do you want, feather brain?”

Gabriel didn’t rise to the bait, instead focusing an intense look on the older Winchester, who stifled the urge to squirm.

“You don’t even see how much he loves you do you?”

Dean blanched.

“Or is it that you refuse to? Because you’re afraid of losing him, like you’ve lost everyone else?” Gabriel asked, all playfulness absent.

Dean stiffened at the question, and though he tried to, he couldn’t meet the archangel’s eyes as he answered, “I don’t know what you’re-“

“He loves you, and you love him, Dean. Why can’t you see that, accept it? Why do you make him suffer?” Gabriel asked, true sadness in his eyes and voice.

Dean’s mouth closed audibly at that. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t understand what Gabriel was saying, and yet he felt as though he should. Gabriel’s eyes searched him with an intensity only those golden orbs could, before he sighed and turned in the direction of the kitchen.

“When you figure it out, don’t hesitate, just tell him. He’s been waiting long enough.”

And Gabriel left Dean there, standing alone, staring where the archangel had stood, and stuck in the turmoil of his own emotions and thoughts.


	13. Time to Work Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm back...to 1000KUDOS!!!!!!!!
> 
> Thank you guys so much ;o; I never thought you'd like my fic this much; truly thank you!!!!  
> And a mega thank you for your patience ;o;

Derek stood by the mantlepiece with Stiles, the latter leaning heavily as they waited for the pack to fill in through the door. The room was basked in a sombre glow, and everyone remained silent as they began to fill the left over spaces in the Stilinski home living room.

The Winchesters had taken position near the front door, and the pack gave them threatening looks as they passed by. Castiel and Gabriel were beside Stiles, talking in hushed tones of their native tongue, much to the obvious displeasure of the Hale pack, as they couldn’t understand what they were saying.

Stiles was quick to see whether Scott had gotten over their argument, but from the way he wasn’t making eye contact, he guessed not. 

Allison however only had eyes for the two brothers standing near the door, though they didn’t seem to notice, as they were both lost in thought about their respective angels. Though knew to stay alert enough while being in the presence of a werewolf pack. Scott seemed to notice this as he looked in her direction with his puppy eyes, before sending a glare the Winchesters way.

As the last member of the pack entered, a smirking Peter with sharp eyes closing the door, Derek stepped forward to signal the beginning of the meeting with Castiel and Gabriel’s conversation dying with it.

“Stiles has informed you of the new arrangement between us and the Winchesters. During this time you’re to consider them as pack, and to trust them with your lives.”

Scott growled at Derek’s comment, affronted, “We’re supposed to trust them, when only a day ago they were threatening to kill us?”

Derek growled back, flashing his eyes to send Scott into submission. However, it was Sam who spoke in answer.

“We apologise,” he began. “We assumed that you were the cause of the recent deaths in your town, but we were proven wrong. We don’t kill innocents, however in our line of work, the majority of the supernatural we’ve encountered have been the bad guys.”

“Yeah,” Dean chuckled. “Even bird-brain over there can attest to that.” he said, pointing at Gabriel who was now sucking on a rainbow lollipop.

Said archangel just shrugged before giving a devilish smirk.

“Loki,” he introduced himself, “also known as the Trickster, sexiest man alive,” at this he winks at Sam, who futilely tries to fight his blush, “and by my least favourite title: Gabriel.”

“Gabriel, as in archangel Gabriel?” Lydia asked, her eyes hungry for knowledge.

Gabriel sighed, nodding as if the name was an insurmountable burden.

“Enough.” the resident alpha growled. “We have better things to be doing than this.”

Gabriel’s face hardened, and he nodded, though with a glare aimed at the alpha, and eyes shining threateningly. Stiles sighed.

“The Alpha Pack are set to arrive tomorrow, the afternoon at the latest. We don’t know whether they’ll send along a hunting party, but the assumption is if they do, it’ll be someone sent to the school, so we need to watch out or any new teachers or students. They have a pair of twins, teenagers in their ranks, so they’ll probably be the ones to come first.”

“Who died and made you boss?” Scott grumbled under his breath.

Derek growled with his teeth bared, “Do not forget your place, pup. Keep your mouth shut unless you have something of value to say.”

Scott turned his head away, but not before the room saw his face flush red in embarrassment.

Stiles spoke up, “I think introductions are in order.” He went on to introduce the Winchesters and resident angels to the pack, with Allison blushing at her introduction, and Scott therefore begun growling low under his breath before Peter smacked him up the head with a smirk.

“I believe the eldest Argent should be included.” Peter said offhandedly, his eyes showing too much innocence and nonchalantness to make the suggestion be anything but. Stiles however, knew his reason why, and smirked at the elder Hale, who frowned back at him.

“Sure,” Stiles began, “if you can convince him to come.”

Peter’s frown deepened, before a smirk grew, and he gave a grin full of teeth before he took off out the back door into the woods.

Sam looked towards Stiles, “But we’ve already met him.”

Allison looked on in alarm, rising to go after him, but Stiles shook his head no, and told her to sit. “He won’t hurt him, so don’t worry.”

“How would you know?” she asked with venom.

“‘cuz he’s in love with your dad, that’s why.” Gabriel smirked.

Allison’s head flipped around fast enough to give her whiplash as she turned to face the archangel in the room, who was now munching his way through a bag of M&Ms. Gabriel just smirked before swallowing his mouthful.

“The soul shines brighter when faced with someone its host loves.” Castiel explained.

Allison snarled, “You mean that monster is in love with my father?!”

Glass shattered instantly as a powerful wind blew circles around the room, sending loose papers swirling in a tornado like current. Dean and Sam had drawn their guns, alert and waiting for the next supernatural creature to walk through the door, however a look from Castiel halted their movements.

Gabriel was the one that brought attention to Stiles, who was panting with the effort of containing his rage, his eyes glowing a unnatural purple. Gabriel had flown to his brother, and had his arms wrapped tightly around him, his lips murmuring placating words in enochian. The winds had begun to calm, however it was the whimpering from Isaac that made Stiles regain himself. With a deep breath, the winds stopped, and his eyes returned to their natural honey browns.

Stiles didn’t know what had come over him. Though he chalked it up to being the fact that his pack, his Derek, were being targeted, but they weren’t taking the threat seriously, they were attacking each other. And he was scared for them.

That and no matter how petty Scott was being, he was still his brother. And his brother was a werewolf, a monster as Allison put it. And they were dating.

When he raised his eyes, he wasn’t surprised to see Allison had drawn a knife, and the majority of the pack had their claws unsheathed.

“What are you?” Lydia asked cautiously form behind a growling Jackson.

“That’s what I’d like to know.”

Everyone turned towards the door, where Chris was observing the room with a blank faced Peter.

Gabriel sighed at the chaos the room had become, knowing he would have enjoyed it if it weren’t for the circumstances. With a click of his fingers, the room was as it was before, as if a supernatural wind hadn’t blown it askew.

“Deaton,” Scott began timidly, “called him a spark. He said he had magic, he could just wish it and it’ll happen.”

Stiles felt the anger build up at that. Deaton, had told Scott. Of course, he should have known the old emissary would tell Scott that. Anything to benefit his own hide, the rat, Stiles thought bitterly. He hated the man for not helping Derek. He used to be the Hale pack’s emissary after all. Oh, how he wished to smite the man.

“Shut up, Scott.” Derek barked.

The pack quietened, however the damage was done, and Stiles couldn’t meet any of their eyes.

“It’s time we actually got to the reason why we’re here.” Derek bit out, however his eyes remained riveted to Stiles, the angel still held in his brother’s tight grasp.

The pack seemed too distracted by what Stiles did to judge the embrace.

“The Alpha Pack will be here tomorrow, and we need to have a strategy already planned.”

“Why can’t we just talk to them?” Scott asked with pleading eyes, only to be answered by Derek’s frustrated growl.

“Because,” Gabriel began, his voice stern yet slow, as if he were reprimanding a child, “this pack isn’t here to play, wolf. It’s here to destroy you, to make you die by your alpha’s hand, to make you die as you feel the remains of your pack bonds die with you. Do you what it’s like to feel those you love die, boy? To feel their deaths? Imagine it, feel it for yourself, and then imagine dying at the same time, and that they can feel you dying too. That’s what they’ll do to you if you approach them with the intent to ‘chat’.”

The room was once again cowed into silence at the archangel’s words, and Stiles shivered at the vocalisation of his fears.

“This is the reason we’re working together. We need to work together, otherwise we could lose. And that’s a chance I’m not willing to take.” Derek stated, his voice growing heavy with emotion, “I’ve already lost one pack, I won’t lose another.”


	14. The Twins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd give you guys another because of your support :D
> 
> Also, I'm getting close to the end of my planned storyline so far, so if I take longer than a couple weeks, feel free to comment to let me know I'm taking a while ;p I'm on staggered shifts so I loose track of time. Sorry guys ;o;

The pack made sure to tread with caution when around Stiles the following day, with Isaac being the only one to approach him. Stiles appreciated him for it.

The pack, Argents and Winchesters had managed to form a plan, ready for when the alpha pack made an appearance. Throughout the meeting the pack had stayed just as distant from Stiles as they were at school now, and it created a painful ache in Stiles chest.

This was why he never wanted to tell anyone; telling Derek was a given, and Peter a necessary sacrifice. He hated this feeling of bottomless grief that just wouldn’t go away.

He just wanted to leave, to go see Derek. He didn’t have any judgement, and had openly showed his opinion on the new Stiles, keeping him close and often touching him to scent mark him.

The only reason he was still on school grounds was the threat of the Alpha Pack somehow making its way into the school. He wouldn’t put it past them to throw a Gerard Argent and place one of their own as a teacher.

It had happened twice after all.

The Druid lady didn’t make it past the second day.

As if Stiles would let her try to worm her way into the Pack while they were still recovering from the Argents.

His dad made sure to bury her lost persons report. Stiles loved his dad.

The angel-turned-human-teenager fought back a yawn as he listened to the drone of Harris as he gave a lengthy-lecture on the genetic punnet.

That was when they walked in.

The heavy aura of power that dripped from them saturated the air, and Stiles forced himself to not stiffen; the same couldn’t be said for the rest of the pack.

Scott, Isaac, Erica and Boyd all stiffened at the new presences in the room, obviously trusting their instincts of the twins’ as a new threat. Stiles had to hold Isaac’s arm as one of the twins, introduced as Ethan, decided to take the open seat next to Danny.

The suggestive look he gave the goalie didn’t help him any with holding back the temperamental teen wolf.

The other Alpha took the remaining seat next to Greenburg.

With the introductions over Harris continued on with his speech.

Stiles had a feeling that the pack was going to be given quite a few more punches by the time the school day was over.

-

He was right, of course.

It started in history class with Mr Westover.

Everyone knew that the spot next to Lydia was Jackson’s. And Stiles could bet it was about bathed in the beta’s scent as well. So it was an outright threat when the second twin Aiden decided to take the seat.

Let’s just say it was a good thing that Stiles wasn’t one to hesitate between having his pack-mate trying to tear someone’s throat out and the risk that the twin might tear his out.

He asked Lydia to switch seats.

Stiles would be laughing if it wasn’t for what he could only describe as killing intent rolling off the twins in waves.

-

Then it was gym class.

The coach decided to bring out the wall climbing exercise again.

Stiles hadn't even even tried to hold back the wince at the coaches’ words.

Especially at the twins’ matching grins.

Let’s just say that Scott couldn’t have fallen down harder.

-

And so that was how the day went. Mainly with the twins taking jabs at everyone, and Stiles doing the best he could to stop his pack-mates from wolfing out in front of the entire school.

Stiles considered it a victory that by the end of the day no one was dead or on the verge of it.

Of course, that was when Danny jumped into the twins’ car.

Isaac literally howled.

Stiles was glad he still had Grace. Otherwise the whole town would’ve heard it.

The only thing that managed to calm down the werewolf was a promise that Stiles would get his brother to watch out for the goalie. He even promised that he’d get Gabriel to smite the twins, damn the possible repercussions, if they even bumped into him the wrong way. It calmed him somewhat, but Stiles knew he wasn't happy, even getting Boyd to steer his baby as he hugged the wolf in the back seat.

-

Sam didn’t really know what to say to Gabriel when he finally got the chance.

Derek had headed with Sam’s brother and the rest of the adults to the area they planned for their ambush of the Alpha Pack, and had left Sam to hold up the fort.

Gabriel had given an excuse of doing Stiles a favour before disappearing, and Dean had of course insinuated something insulting.

Dean had left the house with green hair and a sour face to match.

Sam hadn’t held back his laughter, but it had died quickly under the sound of the Impala starting up, its old humming now a harsh cough and rumble. He felt bad for his brother, but knew he couldn’t say that he didn’t deserve it a little. At least Stiles had left it usable, even when it looked like it’d been neglected in a forest and torrential rain storms its whole life.

Sam had been put on research duty, unsurprisingly, and had begun to research the Alpha Pack. It was a struggle to find the possible weaknesses Derek may not know of, easier though on how to use them to form a strong strategy and any contingency plans. Every slice of information they could find helped.

It had been just under an hour when Gabriel had popped back in.

Sam had stiffened, but didn't do more than that. He couldn’t meet Gabriel’s eyes.

“Finished with whatever you were doing?” Sam asked, though didn’t bother looking up from his laptop.

“Mm.” Gabriel murmured, and Sam looked up to see that the archangel was closer than he thought.

Sam stiffened again as the archangel only moved closer, seemingly having no sense of personal space. Or not caring either way.

Sam gulped involuntarily as Gabriel’s golden eyes bore into his, the archangel’s stare tightening in concentration. Sam tried not to lose his mind in their Midas’ touched pools.

The words that rose in his mind were lodged in his throat, and no matter how many times he opened his mouth they wouldn’t come out. The words asking why, the ones telling just how much he had missed the archangel, and if he had heard him pray. If he’d ignored them. That thought hurt.

And then suddenly Gabriel was moving forward, and Sam didn’t think anymore.

The trickster’s lips on his felt like the piece to a puzzle he’d been completing for too long, and Sam moaned. Gabriel kissed harder.

Sam moaned harder.

When they broke away, Gabriel had moved to Sam’s lap, and the Winchester’s laptop lay shut and forgotten on the ground.

“It was because I had faith in you.” Gabriel said, and Sam’s confusion must have showed because the angel sighed before making a pout and continuing, his hands absentmindedly running through Sam’s hair.

“Of ‘Why’, that’s my answer. Of course, I never thought you’d be so stupid as to do what you did, but it worked out, so there’s that. And I missed you too. Though I have been watching you since you came back, though obviously you didn’t know that, so it was probably worse for you. And of course I heard you pray, I’ve always heard you Sammy. I mean, I never really used to tune into the prayers after I left home, but once I was healed-”

Same had to cover Gabriel’s mouth to stop his onslaught of words, though quickly removed it when Gabriel decided to lick it. The angel grinned.

“You should’ve seen that coming Samsquatch.” he smirked.

Sam sighed, though he grinned along with the archangel.

“Now while I would never consider these words leaving my mouth, the situation calls for them. Let’s put this on hold for now, what with the incoming murder squad and everything.

“But,” Gabriel said when Sam went to open his mouth, “That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the little things.”

And with an effort filled huff, he turned around and sat fully in Sam’s lap, pulling the forgotten laptop into his own lap, before opening it and restarting.

“Though, afterwards, whatcha say about a romantic boat ride on the Thames?”

-

Derek led the others through the preserve, not bothering about looking back to see whether they were following. He was too busy in thought, just like the other members of his party, though he made sure to be aware of the surrounding area just incase the Alpha Pack made a surprise visit.

While Dean wasn’t looking forward to another thrashing by the Alpha currently leading them, it wasn’t the main focus his mind was dwelling on.

Even after a couple days, Gabriel’s words still rung hard, and Dean truly felt helpless as what to do. He just didn’t understand.

Of course he loved Castiel. The angel had lifted him from purgatory, and had fallen because of him. As if he couldn’t love him for it. He just didn’t understand what the trickster was getting at.  
Cas knew he loved him, right?

Dean looked towards the angel, however he wasn’t paying attention, instead focusing on the werewolf leading them. Dean ignored the feeling in his chest.

Castiel was busy trying to figure out why his brother picked the growly werewolf for his mate.

Peter was busy himself, following more closely than considered appropriate beside Chris, their shoulders bumping regularly. Every time they bumped against one another, Chris would stiffen then relax. Peter found it more amusing every time he purposely did it.

Of course nothing could’ve beaten how Chris had reacted before he had dragged him to the pack gathering.

-

_Peter hadn’t hesitated in running from the Stilinski home into the thick cover of the preserve._

_While he knew that Stiles was using the meeting as an excuse to make him act in regards to the older Argent, he couldn’t say he hadn’t been wanting to do this for a long, long time. This just gave him an excuse to do it._

_He felt the ground beat under his feet as his every leap hit the forest floor, leaving behind a heavy print upon the dirt._

_This was one thing that bitch Argent would never be able to take from him; never could or did. His preserve._

_The life-force of the ancestral home of the Hale Pack may have weakened with the death of her protectors, but with the formation of the new pack, he could feel the life of the forest returning, growing strength._

_It was a feeling he knew that he wouldn’t be able to feel if it wasn’t for Stiles helping him become himself again._

_He wondered whether the reason the forest glowed brighter and held less darkness between its branches was solely because of the pack. He had a feeling it was also because of Stiles.  
He didn’t even want to think about that tree._

_He’d passed it without realising the other day._

_The rotten stump had been replaced by a sapling._

_Peter slowed as he heard the distinct sound of splintering wood, and made sure he made enough noise to be heard as he came around one of the lining trees into the small clearing the Argents had claimed as theirs._

_Well really, Derek had gifted it to them._

_Peter considered it as more of a bribe to keep them out of the areas of the preserve he didn’t want them. Of which were mainly near their recently half-rebuilt home._

_Not only Derek found it hard to tolerate their female Argent pack member. She looked too much like Kate sometimes. Peter would have ripped her throat out five minutes into a fight with her.  
Maybe that’s why he was always sequestered on the opposite side of the room at pack meetings._

_Chris Argent looked away from where he’d been shooting his rifle at a target at the other edge of the clearing. Peter was glad he’d come from the opposite direction._

_Chris was obviously waiting for an explanation from the older Hale, however, he didn’t put away his weapon._

_Grudges did die hard, after all._

_“What do you want, Hale?” Chris asked with a sigh, seemingly done with waiting for it forthcoming._

_Peter stared at him without answering for a moment, before grinning and deciding to skip the boring interlude._

_“How do you feel about dinner, Saturday at seven? I know a great restaurant that serves the best fettuccini.”_

_Chris blinked._

_“Also, the kiddywinks are currently having a meeting with the visiting hunters in regards to the incoming invasion of the Alpha Pack, of whom are most likely going to try to kill not only the wolves, but your precious little huntress of a daughter too._

_“Would you like to accept the invitation to attend?”_

_Chris was left gapping, and with a slightly disgusted look on his face. Peter hoped it wasn’t over the date._

_“Well?”_

_“Of course I’ll bloody well attend!” he shouted._

_Peter grinned._

_“Great, I’ll pick you up at a quarter-to-six.”_

_Chris roughly brought his hand over his face. But he didn’t say no._

_“Well, chop chop, we have a meeting to get to.” Peter sauntered over to the hunter, before grasping his arm and dragging him in the direction of the Stilinski home._

_“And trust me when I say, you really don’t want to miss anymore than you have.”_

—

Chris held back the urge to draw his gun and shoot Peter just to get him to stop purposefully bumping into his shoulder.

And there he goes again.

Chris sent him a glare that could cut through stone, but the older Hale just smiled before doing it again.

Chris wondered if Peter’s nephew would be adverse to killing him again.

He knew why the werewolf was doing it. But he knew he couldn’t back off from what he agreed to, no matter how twisted the agreement had taken place.

So Chris just sighed, and tried not to hit the wolf when he did it again.

While Peter might not have been able to see his own face when he asked Chris to a date, Chris of course had.

It was a look of such hope that took years off the wolf’s face.

He couldn’t say no to that after what he knew the wolf had gone through.

He was only human, after all.

And while he wouldn’t admit it under duress, Chris felt the loneliness he was sure the older Hale does.

He’d felt his whole world collapse when it had come out as true as to what Kate had done. And he’d only been rebuilding it when Victoria had died. Then it was his father, then his daughter almost becoming like Kate and it still left him awake at nights listening to his daughter in the room over, fearing of the past repeating itself.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if more innocent people died because of his own inactions.

He still had the passports in the safe ready if Allison lost control again.

France was only a plane trip away.

And he knew, deep down, he wants someone to hold when everything weighs him down.

Someone that wasn’t a trained killer his father arranged him to be with.

If it didn’t work out, he’d break it off.

Castiel’s stare bore into Derek’s back to the point that it felt to the werewolf as if someone was carving into him. The werewolf twitched uncontrollably when he felt the stare intensify.

“What?” he barked at the angel.

He looked back at Castiel, noticing faintly that his uncle and Argent had fallen back, though were still visible between the trees. Derek had a feeling that it was about to be a good thing.

Peter seemed to be getting way too close to the older Argent for comfort. And for Derek’s sanity.

The Winchester seemed to be aiming his glare like a gun at his head.

“Why does Zadkiel love you?” the angel asked, seemingly unaffected by the wolf's brash tone.

Derek stiffened at the foreign name. Stiles was Stiles to him, and a name like that just didn’t fit with his spastic mate. He really hoped that the teen kept the name after everyone knows and this invasion is over.

“I don’t know.”

And Derek really didn’t know. He couldn’t understand why Stiles would love him.

Him, who was the reason his family was murdered. That all of these bad events have occurred.

He hated himself with a loathing everyday and he just didn’t understand.

What was there left to love?

He stopped moving, using the excuse that his uncle and Argent just fell out of eye sight as a feeble excuse for wanting to confront the angel.

The Winchester almost ran to the angel, as if a possessive guard dog.

Derek wondered whether the hunter knew he smelt like jealously and longing.

He wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. The man seemed almost as oblivious as McCall.

Castiel took the remaining steps up to Derek, not even pausing to Dean’s yelled warning.

“What?” the werewolf asked, his eyes glaring into the angel’s.

The stare off was ended forcefully by Dean, who grabbed his angel, pulling Castiel away from the werewolf and put himself in-between.

Dean had to push Castiel back again when he went to move forward, the angel’s eyes again not straying from Derek’s.

Derek met Castiel’s eyes without hesitation.

“Will you allow me to look for the answer?”

Derek stiffened, “How?”

“Through looking into your memories.” Castiel answered, not hesitating you use his full strength to bodily shove Dean out of the way.

While Derek stiffened, he allowed the angel to place his hands on the side of his head. He didn’t know what to expect. He defiantly didn’t expect the feeling of being crushed from all sides.

Derek wanted to howl, but by the time he managed to get enough control to open his mouth, the pain morphed into bearable, and he opened his eyes to Castiel stepping away.

Derek must have shifted in his pain because the Winchester was trying to get between him and the angel, his hand purposely close to the pocket hiding his gun.

Derek managed a growl before biting out, “Forget to mention something?”

Castiel nodded, “I assumed the pain would deter you, and as such neglected to mention it. It will fade in a few minutes.”

Derek’s body vibrated with his growl.

Castiel nodded, “I apologise.”

Derek huffed, forcing his wolf down, before turning his back and storming onwards, noticing that Chris and Peter had almost caught up to the group.

Castiel passed Dean’s insistent hands that kept trying to grab him, before coming up in front of the werewolf.

Derek growled, and Peter chuckled, “Really nephew mine, you sound like you were raised in a cave. Use your words.”

That made the alpha turn his glare to his uncle, who only smirked in response.

“What. Do. You. Want?” Derek growled.

Castiel smiled, “Stiles loves you because you are everything he represents.”

Derek’s forehead wrinkled in his confusion, and Castiel elaborated.

“When Father left, Michael originally encouraged His faith in humanity. All of my siblings represented traits in which we were meant to treasure your race for.

“Over time, these worshiped traits became a rarity among you humans, and even those that said prayers to us, their traits were far from our own; untruthfulness, contempt, betrayal, blasphemy.  
“it was this fact that these traits were paved over our own, that our Father’s faith in humans, the faith we’d taken on, diminished. How were we meant to protect a race, when all they did was waste the protection in hurting themselves?

“So, we gave up. We awaited the Apocalypse, as it was the only thing that made time move.”

The others were silent as Castiel explained, Dean pale at his angel’s tale. Something Castiel had never chosen to share with even him.

“Some of us still listened to the prayers of your people, however, barely ever did we answer them.

“For my brother, for Zadkiel the representation of forgiveness, he lacked the reason to allow himself to forgive the people that ruined our Father’s gift to them.”

Castiel broke eye contact to look to the North, and the group could only assume he was looking towards his brother.

“Zadkiel lost faith in himself.”

He looked back.

“When an angel looses faith like he did, they loose themselves. Zadkiel moved to the furthest, secluded place he could find. Only Michael could reach him, and even then my brother was forced to leave upon arrival.

“For my brother to have left, to have stayed here, and most importantly to still have his Grace, means he must have found his faith. Must mean he has found a reason to be himself again.”

That was when Castiel smiled, and the happiness on his face was like the shining of grace that demons feared most.

“And he’s still here, because of you.”

Derek blinked, his mouth falling agape as he struggled to find the words to express his feelings.

“He’s in your memories, though you may not realise it. I saw him as a child, seeing you for the first time, and I know in that moment he is seeing your soul, your being. It is the same elated shock I felt when I saw Dean’s.”

Dean blushed, Peter’s eyes straying to the rose-tinted cheeks as a smirk blossomed across his own face. His eyes hinted at a plan.

“You are special to my brother; he’d do anything for you.”

Castiel’s gaze hardened,“Do not hurt him, because while he would always forgive you, I will not. My brother deserves to have happiness, I hope you will give it to him.”

Castiel then turned away, walking further into the Preserve and closer to the clearing ahead.

Dean was the next to follow, rushing past the frozen Derek after his angel, who slowed down at the hunter’s yell.

Chris followed, glancing at the younger Hale before passing.

Peter stopped next to his nephew, breathing a sigh before raising his hand to curl around the back of the man’s neck.

Derek relaxed under his uncle’s soft touch, lowering his head so none could see the warring emotions on his face and in his eyes.


	15. Truth or Truth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, again so sorry for the wait ;o; I have had no motivation, I'm really sorry
> 
> Though thank you everyone that is still waiting around for me!!!!
> 
> I hope you like this chapter, though a bit short, it will lead to hopefully a longer one! We're getting closer to the final chapter! (I think ;u;)
> 
> Also, on the topic of Stiles name; this was written way before they revealed his actual name, though if you research my version there's some meaning behind my choices ;D

The seriousness of the gathering seemed to sink into the pack members’ moods.

Isaac was huddled next to Stiles, his eyes red from rubbing against them to stop the tears from falling.

Again, the pack was keeping themselves seperate from Stiles, though it seemed they were beginning to warm up again. While no one went out of their way to offer him comfort, they didn’t ignore his presence. That was something.

The teen couples were huddled together around the room, as well as Sam and Gabriel, the latter who seemed to be taking enjoyment out of both Sam’s blush and Dean’s glare. The expressions occupied his attention enough for him to ignore the childish happiness on Castiel’s face.

Peter as well was still a little too close for comfort next to Chris, as shown on the latter's pinched expression. It had earned him a glare from the female Argent, who had not yet stopped.

The group of teens had shared their day of the twin alphas’ attempts to get them to attack, and while Derek growled at the twins’ attempts, he had hope that the foreign pack had a want for the Hale pack to attack first.

It would mean their plan had a higher chance of following through.

Gabriel took the stage with a natural flamboyance, garnering the attention of the rest of their little group. He coughed as if they didn’t already have his attention, taking a sort bow as an introduction.

“So, I’d like to set the stage for this meeting. With the reason it’s happening being the reason we’re here." Everyone looked at him with an exasperated expression, not including Stiles who was grinning childishly at his brother's antics. Gabriel would always make him laugh.

He had missed him since the day he disappeared. He had mourned him as if dead, thinking he was. The grin lost some of it's warmth, though was now lit with fondness instead of amusement.

“So the expectation is that the leader will make an appearance soon, what with the twins appearing to cause a disturbance. Their goal is unknown, but it’s an assumption that they’ll tell us soon.”

Chris spoke up, “How many are there?”

The older Argent had been led into the meeting by Peter, and Stiles felt only slightly guilty at his amusement at everyone's faces when they noticed Peter's arm wrapped around Chris' waist. Another reason the older Argent's daughter was glaring at the older Hale.

“I sensed a total of five members including Decaulion,” Gabriel explained. “Though that doesn’t factor in the fact that Decaulion has created a pack out of Alphas. We find ourselves with the question of where these Alphas’ packs are?”

Stiles, who was until then silent, focused back into the conversation. Sat next to Derek, he took the moment to speak up, “He manipulated his pack into killing their own. He wants Derek.”

Derek stiffened alongside Gabriel, “I would never harm my pack.”

Stiles could see the fear and deep sorrow that came with the words, and a tight comforting squeeze accompanied is coming painful words. “He’ll kill them if you don’t. One by one, until you’ll kill them in last resort. He won’t end their lives slowly.”

“Stiles,” Derek breathes.

“It’s how he thinks Derek," Stiles' eyes easily displayed the sorrow he felt at the meaning in the words, "But it won’t make a difference.”

Everyone was looking at Stiles, who wasn’t meeting any of their eyes, instead focused on his remaining hand mingled with Derek's.

“I’ll kill them before I let them touch you. You’re mine.”

The brief silence after Stiles' words was broken by a growl, “What?”

It was unsurprisingly Scott.

Stiles didn’t bother with a response. He considered it payback for the silent treatment Scott had been giving him over the past day.

He gave another growl at Stiles’ silence, only quietened by Derek’s own.

Stiles was sick of it. The animosity between himself and Scott needed to end, it was too much of a liability this close to the end. And he missed his best friend.

“What Scott?” Stiles asked, his voice harsh to match his mood. His grip on Derek's hand was unrelenting. Derek tightened his just as much.

“We’re not killers!” he growled, and Stiles could only show show how incredulous Scott sounded.

He let out a bitter laugh, “And poisoning Gerard with wolfsbane isn’t killing someone?”

Scott paled, and Allison’s glare finally moved from Peter onto Stiles.

“And besides,” Stiles began, a dark chuckle leaving his lips, “I’ve been a killer for centuries.”

The majority of the room stiffened, and Stiles knew this was going to be a tough battle.

Chris eyed Stiles with a combination of both trepidation and curiosity. “You’re not human, are you?”

Stiles nodded, and watched as the elder hunter’s eyes moved from Stiles to Castiel and then Gabriel. Stiles always knew Chris was a smart hunter. Loyal as well, his honour the only reason Stiles didn’t kill him alongside his father.

“You’re one of them.” It wasn’t a question. Stiles nodded.

Lydia was the next person able to find a standing. She really was a smart girl. “What’s your name?”

Stiles smiled, “Bozydar Genim Stilinski.”

Lydia raised a pristine eyebrow.

Stiles chuckled, his chest shuddering with the release of a secret he'd been keeping for so long. 

“Zadkiel.”

Lydia paused, her eyes shining with her know and thirst for knowledge, “The archangel of freedom, benevolence and mercy. I’m not surprised that you’re so attached to Hale now.” Stiles and Derek blushed at the statement.

“If that’s what you represent, then why are you still focused on killing the Alpha Pack?” Scott asked harshly.

“Because, like the belief that if you kill your alpha you’re free from the werewolf curse,” Stiles pointedly met Scott’s eyes, “not everything you read is true.

“Did you know almost all of the angels had the intention of starting the apocalypse?” Stiles asked rhetorically, still with the same dark smile that had yet to leave his face. “If you believe every single misconception of others, you’re not going to survive Scott. The world isn’t black and white, no matter how much you want it to be.”

Stiles sighed, his eyes filled with all of the anguish he felt in every moment.

“I have spent millennia of your human lifespans killing those I considered family. I went against that which my Father created me to represent. Do you understand the pain it caused me? To strike down those I considered my everything, because of the ideal of the destruction of our Father’s favourites? We were meant to keep them safe!” Stiles yelled, the building moving with the tremor of Stiles’ sorrow.

Derek's grip was still strong.

“We killed each other over the jealously of favouritism! I lost myself, and I left. I have never lived a day without remembering all of those I have killed. Their faces before and during, constantly flashing across my mind every time I close my eyes.

“That’s why you need to understand Scott. I will do anything to protect my family, because they are the only thing keeping me as how my Father intended. I have long ago lost faith in my Brothers and Sisters, but I still have faith in you.”

Scott was silent, though his eyes were brimming with emotion.

The one thing Stiles had always loved about Scott was his ability to empathise.

The tears flowed down Scott’s face, down Stiles’ too. Down Stiles’ brothers’.

“That is why,” Stiles forced out, his voice surprisingly strong. “Why I would be willing to kill these monsters. Because to me they are nothing, they mean nothing, but the damage they could do means everything.”


End file.
